


You are my home.

by RedStarFiction



Series: Time Moves To A Different Rhythm. [4]
Category: Outland (TV), Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, Gen, Multi, Outlander AU, Robert Ian Murtagh Fraser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-07-29 03:17:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 34,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7668112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedStarFiction/pseuds/RedStarFiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation of my Time Moves To A Different Rhythm series. <br/>This follows on four years from where There Are Four Of Us Now left off. Bree is now nearly 18 and Robbie is 8.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. True Colours.

1769

She was gone. Where there had been a life now there was only swirling mists and the wide expanse of impassive stone. Everything was still slightly tinted purple in the space she had occupied, her atmosphere lingering between spaces and hovering in the cracks of time.  
Robbie’s own hands were still glowing faintly blue; though it could have been with cold he supposed, if it wasn’t for the red light balanced in the air around his father’s fingers, still holding his collar in a death grip that pulled the fabric up around his right ear, muffling the wind.  
He swallowed the lump in his throat with difficulty and allowed his father to slowly turn him around, drawing him against his body. He could feel Da’s body trembling through the thick wool of his shirt and a choked sob wrenched itself from his father's throat. Fear clutched at Robbie’s heart even as the buzzing from the rock lessened and faded to nothing.

“We need to go,”  
Jamie’s voice was thick and rough and unlike Robbie had ever heard it before.  
“Come, Raibeart.”

Robbie’s feet felt rooted to the earth and he resisted the firm grip around his shoulders without really meaning to.  
“Bree’s gone!”  
He whispered and with a grunt his father stooped and lifted him bodily into his arms, turning him effortlessly over his shoulder and walking away from the standing stones.  
“BREE! BREE!”  
Robbie pounded his father’s back as a final scream from the stone pierced the air around them and he felt his sister engulfed in flames, then spat into a place of unnatural light and huge metal birds.  
*

“Hush bhalaich, I have ye. I have ye.”

He woke cradled in his father’s lap, clutching at the broad scarred back as though his very life depended on it. 

“Robbie, darling, Mama’s here. Mama’s here.”

He turned to his mother’s voice like a magnet seeking its twin and all but threw himself from his father’s lap to reach her. Her hands were cool as she touched his forehead and the blue light he had seen around his own hands radiated from her, soothing and gentle. 

“Bree’s gone!”  
He shuddered, bursting into a fresh round of sobs as Claire pressed his damp cheek to her shoulder and made small circles on his back with her palm.

“Bree isn’t gone, she is just down the hall.”  
Claire murmured and waited until the hammering of her son’s heart slowed against her own chest before carefully pulling back and pressing a hand to his forehead. She was pleased to see that his eyes were clear and alert now, the last of the terror having left him.  
“No fever. It was just a bad dream.”

She smoothed the wild brown curls back from his face and kissed his forehead lightly.  
“It was just a dream sweetheart.”

Robbie shuddered again but wiped his sleeve across his face, trying to calm himself.  
“I’m sorry Mam.”

“Shhh. You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”  
Claire stood and crossed to the dresser, producing a fresh nightshirt, before helping him out of his sweat drenched one. 

Jamie sat forward on the bed, huge hands clasped before him as if in prayer.  
“Are ye alright now son?”

Robbie nodded hastily, embarrassed to have woken his parents with his dream.  
“Aye Da, I dreamt that Bree was swallowed by a … a thing …”  
He tailed off realising that now he was fully awake he had little recollection of what exactly had happened. 

“Wi’ the size o’ her? Must ha’ been a verra large thing!”  
Jamie smiled gently and stood up from the boy’s bed, smoothing the rumpled coverlet and folding it back for him.

“It was.”  
Robbie frowned, trying to remember.

“Dinna fash, it’s over now.”  
Jamie helped him settle and Claire kissed him goodnight, and Robbie forced his breathing into the regular rhythm of sleep as they left the room.

He could hear his mother berating his father, once again, for showing him how to skin a deer that morning, blaming the upset of that for the dream he had suffered and his father apologising for not speaking with her first but remaining firm that it was an important skill to have and better a few tears shed at the age of eight than a hungry belly at twenty.  
Robbie lay as still as he could, waiting for their footsteps to recede down the hall to the laird’s chambers before getting back out of bed and crossing to his window. 

He hadn’t heard Bree make her way downstairs but he knew, with a certainty that surprised him that his sister was not down the hall in her bed. If he closed his eyes he could see a faint purple light which he knew was Brianna but it wasn’t like he was really seeing it or seeing her … it was more like seeing a memory.  
He nudged the window up as far as needed for him to fit through the gap and hastily tugged his breeks, shirt and thickest sweater on.  
With practised ease he crept out onto the window ledge and edged along until one of the gnarled old tree branches was positioned directly below him and then dropped onto it, shimmying along on his belly until he was near the trunk and able to regain his footing and clamber down. 

He pressed his back to the rough bark and listened for all he was worth. To be caught now would cause a stramash with his Mam as he had been scolded before for using the tree and her fear of him breaking his neck was likely to rival his father’s anger at his disobedience. Robbie grimaced to himself, the last time he had left his room via the old tree Da had made him promise never to do so again and breaking his word was likely to earn him the sort of tanning his father reserved for the worst offences. Robbie clenched his bum and made a mental note to thump his sister when he found her, the with a deep breath he stepped out into the moonlight, flitting across to the stable like a thief.

The door opened with a loud creak and he heard a couple of horses snort in the darkness. Robbie crept along the stalls on the right side, Aoileann was fifth stall down and although she was older, she was fast and he was allowed to ride her as he pleased. He could just make out vague outlines in the inky blackness of the stable, a saddle hung up on the wall and Thunder leaning over his gate, inspecting him. If Thunder was here Bree couldn’t have got far. Actually since leaving the house Robbie’s sense of his sister had already gotten a lot stronger. 

A large, warm hand clapped over his mouth from behind and Robbie was physically lifted off his feet as he squirmed and yelled, his cries muffled by the soft palm.  
“Shhh! Jeez Robbie! Stop it!”  
His sister’s voice resonated in the air beside his ear, a harsh stage-whisper in the dark. She set him back on his feet and he whirled to face her, his shock quickly turning to a smouldering anger. 

“Bloody bastard Hell Bree!”

“Watch your language!”

“Dinna tell me to watch my language! You’re supposed to be in bed!”

“So are you and I suggest you get back there before Da comes looking.”

Robbie glanced self-consciously over his shoulder but the night was quiet and still and he thought his father was most likely sound asleep again by now.

“You’re running away.”  
He said flatly and the swift intake of his sister’s breath told him he was right or at least close to right.

“I’m not running away, I’m reading.”

“What are you reading?”  
Robbie asked, still suspicious and more than a little annoyed with her.

“None of your business. Jeez! You’re worse than Mama! Go back to bed!”  
Bree sounded exasperated and Robbie bit his lip anxiously before playing the only card he felt might work.

“If you don’t tell me I’m telling Mam…”

“Damn it!”

He heard a slap as Bree struck her own thigh in frustration. 

“Fine! You little snitch!”

She sounded more resigned than truly cross but Robbie knew better than to push his luck. If he had threatened to tell Da, Bree would likely have dug her heels in and called his bluff as neither of them had ever deliberately brought ill-behaviour to their father’s attention. It wasn't that he was unkind, he just saw things in black and white when it came to respect and obedience and was not afraid to say so. To tattle to Da would be like shoving someone into the sea during a storm! Telling their mother though, that was more like shoving someone into a stream: calmer and much less perilous, despite leading to the sea at some point. 

Brianna crossed to the stable door and eased it closed. Robbie’s eyes had been adjusting to the gloaming but now the blackness swelled again and he was blind. He could hear Bree rustling around and the *clip, clip* of flint striking steel. There was a spark and a grunt of satisfaction as the tinder caught and Bree dipped the splint into the tinder box, blowing gently on it until it curled into flame and illuminated the red curtain of her hair, hanging across her face.  
Robbie stood quietly whilst she lit the three candles around her pile of books and settled herself. He noticed with a small jolt just how much like their Da Bree looked when her bones were elongated with shadows and her features enhanced by firelight. When she spoke he half expected a much deeper voice but it was a momentary expectation and quickly faded.

“Alright. I’ll tell you what I’m doing but first, little brother, you have to tell me what *you* are doing out here.”  
Bree beckoned him over with a crooked finger and tucked a blanket around his shoulders as he sat beside her.

“I had a bad dream. You were gone and I canna remember what ate you but something did…”  
He scrunched up his nose and desperately tried to think back  
“Da was there and we … we were on a hill…”

Bree stiffened beside him and Robbie shrugged.

“I just knew ye weren’t in bed and I followed … I dinna ken what I followed but I knew where to go without knowing.”

Bree was silent for a moment.  
“I am thinking about going away for a while Robbie, but I’d come back. I think, now, that I would definitely be able to come back.”

“Where are you going to go?”

“To see someone that I knew a long time ago, before you were born.”

Robbie furrowed his brow and looked up at his sister.  
“Who?”

“His name was … is Frank. He was like a father to me and I never said good bye to him when Mama and I left … I want to make sure he’s OK.”

Robbie scooched closer to her, hearing the catch in her voice.  
“Where does he live?”

Bree snorted and wiped a hand under her nose.  
“Somewhere really far away and I don’t know if I can get there.”

Robbie nodded. He had been equally upset when Da had explained to him that they couldn’t visit Willie and Lord John in America because it was too far.  
He only had a vague memory of Willie but they wrote to each other two or maybe three times a year and last time Willie had sent him a porcupine quill and an eagle feather which Robbie treasured.  
“You could ask Mam and Da?”

Bree shook her head and looked down at him sternly  
“No! I really can’t and you mustn’t tell them either. Promise me!”

“But they could help!”

Brianna shook his shoulder firmly and stared at him, her eyes wide and dark in the shadow of firelight.  
“No. Promise me Robbie.”

“OK.”

“Say the words.”

Robbie huffed but obligingly linked his little finger around Bree’s own offered digit and placed his left hand over his heart

“I pinky-swear promise I willna tell, if I do I hope that bugs fall in my soup and stones find their way into my shoes forever.”

Bree grinned in the darkness and squeezed their fingers tight.

“OK, good.”

She tried to let go but Robbie’s finger tightened

“You have to promise me something too.”

“What?”  
Bree cocked a smoothly arched eyebrow at him and Robbie tipped his chin up to meet her gaze boldly.

“Ye have to promise you won’t go without telling us.”

“Robbie …”

“Ye have to promise it Bree! I dinna want ye to just disappear.”

The memory of the dream came back to him and his lip quivered.

“OK,”  
Bree sighed and closed her eyes, raising her own left hand to her chest.  
“I pinky-swear promise I won’t disappear without telling you, if I do I hope that bugs fall in my soup and stones find their way into my shoes forever.”

*  
Bree let him sit with her a little while longer and then stood, stretching her arms above her head.  
“We should get you back to bed.”

Robbie nodded and yawned widely. He was exhausted but he did have one more question to ask his sister whilst they were still in the quiet of the stables and such questions could be asked.  
“Do ye see the colours around people?”

Brianna pushed her bottom lip out and shook her head

“You mean like an aura?”

“I dinna ken. It doesn’t matter…”

Robbie dusted his hands off on his trousers bashfully. Bree squatted down in front of him and caught his hand in hers and held it gently, turning it over and smiling at the familiar square shape of his nails, short and neat like their fathers.

“Do you see colours around us now?”

Robbie shook his head but something in her tone made him feel safe confiding in her

“Not now but earlier I saw them. Ye have a purple or-a.”

“Aura.”  
Bree corrected gently and smiled at him  
“How about you? What colour do you have?”

“Blue, like Mama. Da has a red one.”  
Robbie smiled shyly  
“You believe me?”

“Of course, you’re my brother! What you tell me I believe and trust me Robbie, weirder things have happened in this family.”  
She let go of his hand and ruffled his hair but kept close, crouched before him.  
“Listen, I want you to know that I absolutely love you Robbie and I … I will always come home to you. You’re the best little brother I could ever have wished for.”

Robbie gawked at his usually stoic sister and blinked twice slowly.

“I love you too.”  
He said finally and accepted the fierce kiss Bree pressed to the top of his head.  
They carefully gathered the books and candles up and left the stable together, Robbie already drooping toward sleep as Bree wrapped an arm around his shoulders and guided him through the darkness toward the kitchen door she had left ajar.

The horses snorted and whinnied quietly to themselves and in the loft above them Fergus blinked in the darkness, his mind racing as Marsali Mackimmie continued to sleep peacefully against his shoulder. His heart felt like it would beat right out of his chest and he could feel his palm sweating against the rough floor boards as he whispered into the night.  
“mon Dieu.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MASSIVE, HUGE, TREMENDOUS shout out to Maruszka who reminded me that not everyone will remember that my timeline is slightly different from canon and so Marsali and Fergus are totally cool and there is nothing super creepy going on! I've added the year at the top of this chapter now! Thank you Maruszka - you absolute life saver! <3


	2. The Past Recedes.

Just after dawn Fergus saw Marsali to the stile that sat at the edge of her mother’s land and kissed her cheek gently.  
“Where do ye belong, Fergus?”

Fergus ran his thumb lightly over her lip, smiling as she gently nipped it between her teeth. This was a familiar line of questioning between them and he knew the pattern well. Despite that he decided to change the script.  
“You know where I belong. Where else would I go?”

“Anywhere you want.”  
Marsali smiled and twisted a long curl of blonde hair around her fingers.

“My place is with Milord.”

Marsali looked up, her eyes pale in the early morning sun a small frown creasing her brow.  
“Your place ought to be with me, Fergus.”

“Aye, it is but he is my employer. There is not much honest work for a crippled ex-thief in this world, my love.”

“There is always work for an intelligent, kind … handsome man.”  
She smiled again and Fergus felt his heart swell with love for this fierce, beautiful girl who adored him so very much.

“I do not deserve you, mon cher i.” 

“Aye ye do. But I deserve a husband and I would like one verra much.” 

“Your mother …”

“Where do ye belong, Fergus?”  
She drew close to him, pressing the sweet swell of her chest to the hard, flat plains of his own and his voice rasped painfully as he answered

“With you.”

“Then make me ye wife, or I will find a man who will.”  
It was a mocking threat, meant to cajole not   
They kissed again, more heatedly then Fergus normally risked outside of their sanctuary before she took off at a run across the field toward her home and Fergus turned back towards his own home, the sun rising steadily behind him, casting long shadows in front.  
*  
As he walked he considered his options. Brianna meant to return to her former home amongst the fae. That much he knew for certain. If she fled and he did not tell Milord then he would have broken a trust that had existed between them since Jamie first instructed him to watch out for Claire in Paris, to keep her safe and protect her and their unborn child.   
Fergus felt the familiar stirring of old guilt but pushed it ruthlessly aside. It had been outside of his power to save their first daughter but he had taken great care to guard Brianna with every ounce of strength and loyalty he had in him, even from Milord and Milady. It was easy to blame broken pitchers and unclosed gates on his missing hand and even the state of Petite Rouge’s clothes after a day of play could be explained by Fergus claiming to have accidentally knocked her into the mud. Now he did the same for Wee Ro’ber.   
The thought of Robbie pulled Fergus up short. How was he to explain to Milord what he had overheard without landing Robbie in rather deep trouble? He bit his lip considering. He could perhaps mention Brianna and the books alone without mentioning Robbie’s presence but when Milord questioned her which he surely would she would spring to her brother’s defence instantly and give him away.  
Fergus sighed and paused at the gate, smiling at the irony of willingly leaning against the damned thing which had seen him draped over it more times than he cared to remember as a boy. Yes, Milord was hard but he was usually fair and as with most men, age had softened his temper a little and perhaps if Fergus was to explain to him that Robbie was only in the barn because …   
*because he can see auras around people and followed Brianna’s*  
Fergus thought glumly and sighed again. Milord may live to be a hundred but news that his youngest son is a disobedient seer and his only daughter is planning to run away with the fairies was sure to spark his temper! How could it not?   
Fergus wondered about telling Milady, she was more familiar with these things and would perhaps understand Brianna’s urges and Robbie’s … talents better than Milord might. Then again, perhaps her understanding of the thing Brianna proposed would lead her to greater panic? Fergus squared his shoulders and firmed his resolve. He would speak with Milady first and they could approach Milord together.   
*  
Claire sat motionless for a few moments as Fergus finished his tale and he began to wonder if the shock had been too much for her after all.   
“Milady? Ought I fetch Milord?”  
He asked tentatively and was both relieved and alarmed at the ferocity that sprang into her golden eyes at his words  
“No! No you should not and please, Fergus, do not speak of this to him.”   
She shuddered and then straightened her spine with a sort of resolution that Fergus remembered from the brief time he had spent with her during the Highland march to Culloden Moor, she was preparing herself for battle.  
“Thank you for coming to me, I do appreciate it and I know that it will not have been easy.”  
Her tone softened and she laid a cool palm against his cheek, smiling up at him with true warmth.  
“I am sorry to burden you with yet another thing.”  
His eyes misted and he had to fight back the urge to weep. It was not her words, it was the memory of her before. The first woman to mother him that he could actually remember and the way she had clutched him to her, offering him the protection of her body after he made his first kill in battle… the years had done their work and time had healed so many of Fergus Fraser’s wounds but he would never forget how she had taught him what a mother’s love could truly feel like.  
“Milady, for you and your children, nothing is a burden. Not now, not ever.”  
He smiled, pressing a kiss to her knuckles and offering a sweeping bow before hurrying from the room before he could embarrass himself further.  
*  
Claire sank back into the seat as Fergus disappeared from view. Her legs were trembling and she knew she either had to sit or to fall.

That Brianna would be willing to risk her life and tear their family apart to go back to Frank … FRANK! The man had been decent, Claire would never deny that. He had taken her back and made a home for her and Brianna but he was not Brianna’s father! She had a father, a wonderful father, who raised her from the age of nine and loved her with his whole heart. Jamie would be heartbroken if she left. Angry tears spilled down Claire’s cheeks and she brushed them away with the back of her hand. It wasn’t just about Jamie of course. Claire couldn’t bear the thought of losing Bree. 

Perhaps this was her punishment for what she had done to Frank, snatching Brianna away from him the way she had. It was an action that Claire had never fully forgiven herself for and whilst she did not believe in Karma per-se a nagging, hot feeling at the base of her skull told her she deserved this. That this was her fault. Bree … her beautiful, wild Bree, she did not deserve this. She did not deserve this choice to be marring her young life and Claire was furious with herself for not thinking about it more seriously when Bree was still a girl. 

Of course Bree would feel a responsibility for Frank. She was her father’s child and felt responsible for people even when she was truly not but Claire had taken her loyalty to Frank in the same vein as her belief in Santa: A sweet, simple thing that would fade in time. But it was not like that at all and now … now Claire’s wilful blindness to the truth was going to endanger Brianna’s life.

Who knew if Bree could pass back to the twentieth century? If Frank was even still alive to be the anchor Bree anticipated him to be? Claire thought of the trapped souls, screaming in the rock and felt an answering scream rise in her own throat. Brianna must not make that journey! She was on her feet before she knew it and heading for her daughter’s room at a run.


	3. A spark rises ...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire confronts Bree over her plans to return to the future.

Claire paused outside Bree’s bedroom door to catch her breath and ready herself for the fight that she was prepared to have in order to keep her child. She took several steadying breaths and when she was ready, knocked lightly on the old oak door.  
Bree called her in and Claire eased the door open, closing it softly behind her. Bree set down her book and looked up her initial smile of greeting wavering and then falling away at whatever she saw in Claire’s eyes.   
“What’s the matter?”

“I know what you’re planning Bree.”  
Claire’s voice was firm and resolute but inside her heart was pounding.

“Planning?”  
Bree raised her eyebrows innocently at her mother but Claire only shook her head.

“The Stones.”  
The word hung in the air between them, loaded and heavy but somehow the atmosphere in the room lightened. The secret between them was over and if nothing else there could now be honesty.

“Robbie told you.”  
Bree said flatly, transferring the book from her lap to the drawers beside her. Claire sat down on the bed and smoothed her skirts.

“Fergus actually.”

“How did he even …”  
Brianna waved the thought off, it was unimportant and logic dictated that she focus all her energies on only the most important aspects of this confrontation. She ran one long finger down the bridge of her nose and sat forward, legs crossed neatly beneath her.  
“Say what you have to say Mama.”

“Please do not go.”  
Claire blinked in surprise. She had intended to begin cautiously and to try and persuade Brianna with gentle words but now that the time came, she found herself unable to lead with guile. 

“I have to know that Daddy’s okay.”  
Bree bit her lip and looked at Claire openly.  
“I have to Mama. The way we left …”

Claire reached out and caught her daughter’s hand in her own, squeezing tightly.  
“That was my fault Brianna. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

“I know I don’t Mama!”  
Her voice had risen slightly and she tried to control it but her temper was beginning to flare more with every word her mother spoke.   
“None of this is my fault. It’s not Da’s fault either. He sent you back! He wanted you to stay there!”

“He thought he was going to die!”  
Claire cried and released Brianna’s hand as if bitten.  
“I would never have gone back if I thought he would live!”

“So you used Daddy until you found out Da lived.”  
Bree swallowed and clenched her jaw. She knew she was being unkind but she doubted anyone had ever spelt out for her mother just how callous she had been and figured now was as good a time as any.

“It was more complicated than that.”  
Claire shrugged, she had no illusions about the way she had treated Frank nor how calculated her choices might look. But Claire had lived those choices; she had made each and every one of them with the best of intentions and she did not, could not, regret them. Regret lay behind a door she had neither time nor patience to open.  
“If you’re worried that Frank won’t know where we went, you don’t need to. I left him a note.”

“A note?”

“Yes I …What?”  
Claire frowned and noted with alarm the tips of Brianna’s ears beginning to burn

“You left him a fucking note?”

“I ….”

“What did it say? Hey Frank, Thanks for taking us in and all but I’m taking your daughter. Sorry.”

“No! Of course not …”

“DAMN IT MAMA!”  
Bree leapt off the bed and stared furiously at her mother  
“Do you have any idea how cold that is?”

“Would you have preferred that we just vanished?”

“I would have preferred him to be warned properly.”

Claire shrugged helplessly   
“He wouldn’t have let you go.”

“You could have reasoned with him!”  
Brianna snapped, her voice still high but not as loud as before and Claire allowed a small sigh to escape her lips. Arguing with any Fraser was exhausting but arguing with Bree reminded her of Jamie when he was a very young man and even more pig-headed than he was now.

“Trust me, Brianna. He would not have let you go.”  
Claire said with certainty. She plucked a stray thread from her skirt and stood up.  
“I have made such a mess Bree and yet even now I don’t know what I could have done differently. I had to come back to Jamie. ”  
Her voice cracked over his name and Brianna bit her lip, reining her temper in with difficulty.

“I know you did Mama and I am glad you did. I am glad I got to know my real father and all this time that I have spent with him. I don’t know what I would have done if you told me when I was an adult.”

“Probably smashed something.”  
Claire smiled weakly and Bree grinned in acknowledgement.

“Yeah, I most likely would have.”

Mother and daughter looked at each other for a long moment and then Claire held out her arms and gathered Bree to her.  
“Please Brianna. The stones are so dangerous. You remember the screaming?”  
Claire felt Bree shudder against her 

“I do.”

“Those were trapped souls Bree. I can’t tell you how I know it but I do. I have travelled three times and each time it got harder. The last time …”  
Claire shook her head to clear the memory and squeezed Bree a little tighter.  
“If something has happened to Frank, there is nothing to pull you through to the other side.”

“Maybe my soul mate is there.”  
Bree shrugged but the memory of the stones and the screaming had taken Claire’s good humour away with it.

“Don’t be ridiculous Brianna!”

“I’m not being ridiculous. That’s how it worked for you! Da is your soulmate it’s why you were taken the first time.”

Claire paused and bit her tongue lightly between her teeth. Had fate pulled her through to Jamie? She knew that her connection to him had helped her pass back through with Brianna but that first time? Perhaps it was as Bree said but that did not detract from the peril facing Bree now. 

“Have you been unhappy here?”

The question caught Brianna off guard and as she pulled back, Claire saw a flash of true sorrow cloud those beautiful blue eyes, so like her father’s.   
“No Mama. I love my life here. I love you and Da and Robbie… but I love Daddy as well and I need to see him.”

Claire lightly caressed her temple with the middle and index finger of her left hand. She had not feared this day, nor dreaded it. In truth she had never thought it would happen.   
“I didn’t realise you still thought of him. You were so little when we left …”

“I was nine Mama!”  
Bree smiled but it was a sad and confused smile that trembled fragilely on her lips.  
“Robbie is only eight but do you really think if someone took him away now that he would forget you and Da?”

Claire closed her eyes as the truth of Brianna’s statement washed over her. For Claire it had been easy not to think about Frank after a time. She had Jamie and Bree and then a new baby to think about and the four of them together made up her world. Frank had become a distant memory and one that she had learned to set aside when he came up.

“I beg you Bree, please do not try and go through those stones. Frank would not want you risking your life any more than I do.”

“It’s not about what you want, or what he wants, it’s about what I need.”  
Bree spoke softly, the developed lilt of the highlands more prominent in her lowered voice, auburn lashes sweeping across her Viking bones.  
“I could become a doctor or an architect or an engineer there Mama. Here the best I can hope for is to become a wife and mother.”

Claire opened her mouth to protest and closed it again, twice before finally finding the words  
“If you wish to be a healer I could teach you.”

“I want to have options. Like you did.”

It wasn’t an accusation but it could have been and Claire felt heat creep into her face. Had she sacrificed Bree’s future to try and regain her own past? It hadn’t felt like that but still …  
“You were conceived in this time Bree, you are a child of the eighteenth century…”

“And yet I know what a television is and that heart surgery is possible. I know about germs and cars and equal rights.”  
Bree spread her hands helplessly and Claire saw the conflict etched in the dark smudges beneath her eyes.  
“I belong in two worlds and I want to have my choice of which one to spend my life in Mama.”

“Oh Bree…”  
Claire let the tears which she had held at bay make their way down her cheeks. 

Was it really so unreasonable? Dangerous and foolish, maybe but unreasonable? No. It was not. Bree *was* a child of split-times and she had seen each, now as a woman grown was it not her right to choose her path, her destiny, her life? Claire felt as though her world was crumbling but it wasn’t about her world any more, this was Brianna's world. Her fierce, defiant, brilliant daughter. Jamie’s daughter. Whatever Bree chose it would be her own heart and mind which propelled her, it was the right of her blood and bones and if she was bold enough to go, then she came by such courage honestly. And what could they really do? Lock her up? Send her away to a convent to be watched day and night? Better to guide her than try to force her.

“I want you to think on it, if you do that I will help you tell your father and prepare but I want you to think on it first Bree.”

“For how long?”  
Hope and suspicion mingled in her voice and Claire forced herself to open her eyes and look at her daughter properly. 

“Until I can think of a way to tell your father!”  
Claire grimaced. Bree nodded and then squared her shoulders.

“I’ll tell him. He should hear it from me.”  
*


	4. Old wounds.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie learns of Brianna's plans and things do not go as she hoped.

Jamie watched Bree approach across the fields and allowed himself an indulgent smile. He knew he was biased but the girl was achingly beautiful and so full of her mother’s surety and courage and Jamie could not think of a lass that had a more commanding air about her.   
Her hair flamed in the bright light of the midday sun and he could tell from her gait that she was wearing the ‘pants’ she was so very fond of. Jenny couldn’t stand the things and each laundry day it was a battle of wills between them as to whether the garment ended up in the fire rather than the washing tub.   
Jamie grinned to himself and set down the spade he had been wielding for the last few hours to dig holes for the new sapling apple trees and waited for Bree to reach him.

“Hi Da! I come bearing food!”  
She called cheerfully, waving a basket above her head but there was a catch in her voice and Jamie frowned slightly. 

“Thank ye.”  
He helped her over the stile, his hand on her arm unnecessary as she was as nimble as a mountain goat but it pleased him to do it and so Bree did not protest.

“What brings ye all the way out here then?”

“Mama said to bring you a snack.”

“Ah.”  
Jamie’s lip twitched and he flipped the lid of the basket up. Thick beef ‘sandwiches’ and a wedge of Jenny’s fruitcake big enough to act as a door stop. Jamie sighed and folded his arms.  
“What’s ye wee fool o’ a brother done now then?”

“What?”  
Bree’s brows knitted together and Jamie gestured at the basket

“If ye Mam wishes to feed me like this not an hour before lunch then she means to keep me docile. I’d just as soon ken what I’m being pacified for before I eat it.”  
His voice was light and Bree knew that he was mostly teasing but anxiety made her speak sharply

“Robbie hasn’t done anything!”

“Oh?”  
Jamie raised his eyebrows and took the basket from her, his eyes carefully lowered away from her face as she collected herself.

“I need to … Da … I …”  
Bree pursed her lips and closed her eyes. She had thought so carefully about what to say to him but now all those prudently chosen words fled her mind and she could barely stand to look at her father. 

“Take a seat lass, have a bite. It helps, ken?”  
Jamie sat himself at her feet and broke the fruitcake in half. Bree sat beside him and gratefully took the smaller piece, picking at it as it rested in her palm. 

“Da I have to talk to you.”

“I gathered as much.”  
Jamie smiled and took a large bite, sighing in satisfaction as he chewed the cake.

“You’re not going to like it but I want you listen … to try to listen … first. Then you can yell or whatever you need to do but just let me talk first OK?”

Jamie licked the pad of his thumb and nodded, bracing himself for whatever his daughter had to say.  
“Aye, alright.”

Bree took a deep breath and realised that she was still holding the cake in her hand and a feeling that was almost panic swept over her. She hurriedly dropped it back into the basket and dusted her hands off on her thighs before drawing her knees up and gripping them tightly and fixing her gaze on the back of her left hand.  
“Well … It’s … I want … you and Mama are … I just have …”

Bree blinked as her father’s large calloused palm covered the back of her hand and squeezed lightly.  
“I am many things Brianna, but I didna realise I was such a brute that my daughter feared me.”

“You’re not Da, I’m not afraid I just …”  
And suddenly the enormity of what she was thinking of doing and the hurt she was about to cause her parents caught up with her and Bree began to cry. Jamie made a noise of surprise at the back of his throat and drew her to him, settling her on his lap and rocking her gently.  
“I’m sorry Da … I am so sorry …”

“Dinna be a leannan. Whatever it is, I will help ye fix it.”

Bree hiccoughed and tried to get a handle on herself but it was like a dam had broken. All the weeks of planning, all of the scheming and deception she had felt she was committing poured out of her. She had received nothing but support from her family. Robbie, Mama and now Da … they all wanted to support and love her and she might never see them again if she followed this path to Frank and the future and another life she could have had.   
“Da…”

“Hush. Dinna speak now Bree, just breathe. We’ve no rush and enough food to see we dinna starve for a while.”  
Jamie smiled and kissed the top of her head lightly.   
He was being as solid as his daughter needed him to be but his mind was racing. What could possibly have upset her so much? His mind went to awful possibilities – had she been attacked? Raped? God! Was she with child? Jamie’s arms tightened around her and he clenched his jaw. If some bastard had laid a hand on her Jamie would hunt him down and … but no. Not now. He could not allow his fear and his rage to overshadow what Brianna needed from him. But if someone had …  
Eventually she sat up and Jamie wordlessly handed her a handkerchief as she clambered off his lap and resumed her seated position before him.

“Thank you Da.”  
She smiled weakly.   
“I’m so sorry.”

“Ye’ve nothin’ to be sorry for lass.”  
Jamie desperately wanted to ask her what was wrong but with effort he held back, he knew better than to push her now.

“I had all these words but they just vanished and I couldn’t …”  
Bree waved a hand and Jamie nodded.

“Do ye think ye can manage now?”

Bree bobbed her head and Jamie braced himself, his chest swelling with a breath he did not dare release.  
“I … I want to go back Da.”

Jamie stared at her blankly, unable to comprehend her meaning.  
“Back where mo chridhe?”

“Back to … the future. Through the stones. I want to go back to see Daddy and get an education like Mama and see what the world is like there and …”  
Bree stopped aware of the unnatural stillness that had settled over her father and the shallow rise and fall of his chest.  
“Da?”

“Ye want to leave?”

“Yes. Not forever! Just for a little while.”

Jamie felt as though he was going to faint or vomit or both.  
“Ye’re no’ harmed? No’ wi’ child?”

“What?”  
It was Brianna’s turn to look at him blankly.

“When ye wept and ye said … I thought ye had been maltreated or abused!”

“Why?!”  
Bree saw the tips of her father’s ears turning pink and could feel her own face burning.

“Because I couldna see what else could upset ye so!”

“So if I’m upset I must be pregnant?!”

“No but … Jesus Brianna!”  
Jamie shook his head  
“If I ken ye were greetin’ o’er some foolish wee notion …”

“It’s not foolish! I researched it. I can …”

“It’s foolish if ye think I would allow it. Do ye no’ ken the danger that lies in those cursed Stones?”

“I do but I know the best times to pass through and I know that you have to have someone important on the other side so that you can reach them.”

Jamie stood up and paced a few steps away from her, his head was ringing and he needed space.

“Seas Brianna! Whatever ye think ye ken, ye dinna. Those forces at work there are no’ predictable. Ye canna claim to understand them.”

“But I do! I read all these books and …”

Jamie held up a hand and the dismissive gesture fuelled Brianna’s growing frustration. She scrambled to her feet and glared at him

“You said you’d listen!”

“Aye, but I didna ken ye’d be rattling off such nonsense. Ye canna go back and I willna hear talk o’ it again.”  
Jamie’s voice was flat and authoritative, as if he were talking to a toddler on the verge of a melt-down over bedtime.

“I am going to try Da.”

“No. Ye are not.”  
Jamie stepped close to her, stopping just short of gripping her arms, he clenched his hands by his side to stop them shaking.  
“I lost ye to them once and I am damned if I will lose ye again.”

Jamie glanced down at the basket and his eyes narrowed still further  
“Ye told ye mother of this?”

“She found out.”

“And sent ye here to convince me?”  
The incredulity in his voice was only overridden by the smouldering rage and Bree shook her head quickly.

“No, I wanted to tell you and Mama thought …”

“Thought what? That a bit o’ cake and some bread would convince me to let my only daughter go to Crag Na Dun and kill herself?”

“I’m not seeking your permission Da.”  
Bree spoke quietly but Jamie flinched as though she had screamed in his face.

“Good, for ye dinna have it!”  
Jamie felt the solid wall that he had built up around the memory of Claire’s departure and the twin losses of her and his child begin to crack and with it his composure.  
“Go back to the house Brianna. I need ye away from my sight.”

Jamie’s voice was strangled and Bree felt a lump rise in her throat.

“I have to be allowed my own destiny Da.”

Jamie shook his head, blinded by his own fear.  
“Not this.”  
And turned on his heel, walking away from Brianna before he could lose his temper completely or weep; Jamie was not sure which would happen first.


	5. Reasoning of the Heart.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I really felt this piece taking shape in this chapter and I truly hope you will too. Thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to comment on my work and leave kudos. It really means a lot to me.  
> Thanks,  
> Han

Jamie walked until his legs began to feel thick with fatigued muscle. He needed to get away from Lallybroch and out of proximity to his wife for fear of words being spoken that could not be taken back.He had followed the stream that ran alongside the estate until it became a river and the noise of rushing water filled his ears and quietened his temper so that he could think again.  
He rubbed his sleeve harshly across his stubbled face and sniffed mightily.   
“Stop it ye auld fool!”   
He scolded himself and felt a little better for it. 

Jamie had set out with the intention of getting away from Claire and finding a decent tree to pound until his knuckles were bloody or his cack-finger broke again – whichever came first; but now that he was alone and tired he found the need to beat something had lessened and he had a sudden urge to sit and dangle his feet in the water. So he did.  
The cold earth chilled his arse even through the thick homespun breeks he wore and as he lowered his legs into the frothing waters he shivered uncontrollably until his body temperature recovered. His skin prickled and began to sting but Jamie was grateful for it gave him something to focus on whilst he sorted his thought’s with a dogged persistence. He recognised it as the same dull, plodding stubbornness that had prevented him crying out for mercy when Randall whipped him and allowed him to send Claire back through the stones despite his breaking heart…  
He cut that thought off. He was not ready to think about the stones yet. That would have to come, but later. As would thoughts of Claire and the betrayal he felt, for rational or not, that was what it felt like: betrayal.

Now he needed to focus his thoughts on his daughter, his wee nighean ruaidh. The things she had said had not fallen on deaf ears.

She wanted to get an education. Aye, Jamie could see that she might, she was sharp as a tack and the rudimentary education that was offered to females was beneath her intellect. Jamie knew that, just as he knew it with Jenny and wee Margaret in particular but for them it was the only path they had. For Brianna there was another option and he could see why she longed for it. Despite himself Jamie felt pride flicker in his chest at the thought of his daughter in a room of clever young men, talking rings around them and leaving the school master speechless with her wit. 

She wanted to see the world she left behind. Jamie nodded to himself and looked out across the river to the muted browns and greens of the wood beyond. Had he not hungered for Scotland during his times in France? Had he not longed for the scent of peat and earth and the chilly grey sky above? From what Claire had described there were more wonders in her world than Jamie could comprehend and perhaps it had been foolish of them to think that Brianna would not thirst for them as she grew.   
Jamie’s lip quirked as he remembered how bold she had been, even as a wee lassie of nine years old. His smile broadened as he remembered her beaming at him with her first catch of trout clutched proudly to her chest, heedless of the water soaking the front of her smock. That had been the summer she lost the last of her milk teeth, right in the front, and she had looked wild and fierce and so incredibly sweet that it stole his breath to see her smile. He had hardly been able to credit making such a wonder, his little girl …

*Not just yours though.*  
A small voice quipped and Jamie flinched, pulling his freezing legs from the water and crossing them neatly beneath himself.  
“I want to see Daddy.” She had said and Jamie felt the sting of the words, so painful that even the burning in his half-frozen feet could not distract him.  
He gripped fistfuls of grass until the blades turned to pulp in his hands. That she should still call Frank ‘Daddy’ after all this time – half her lifetime! – was more than Jamie could bear. Jealousy tore at his heart and a hatred for Frank Randall that he thought long dead surfaced in his mind. 

“Damn ye!”  
He whispered and then bellowed it again, the words swallowed in the sound of rushing water. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. It was not Brianna’s fault, he knew that and had always maintained that he did not begrudge her the memory of Frank but the thought of her endangering herself to get back to the man … That he begrudged. He begrudged it very much.   
Had Frank really been such a wonderful father? So much better than Jamie himself? Surely he must have been for Bree to be so willing to risk her life for the chance of seeing him. 

Jamie let go of the wilted blades and slapped his hand flat against the earth. How could Brianna love Frank still? Did Claire secretly love the man as well? Jamie’s mind recoiled at the thought of sharing her affections again. He had tolerated it when they were first married and just about managed to live with it in France but not now. He would not! He would go through the damn stones himself and choke the very life from the man if …

Jamie closed his eyes and tipped his head lightly to one side and then the other. He was being ridiculous. Claire was his and his alone and the lass had proved it more times than any woman should have to. Jamie could ask for no more from her and he did not need anything further. Nor did he have any right to think such thoughts of Frank Randall. Claire had been lost to Frank twice now and the second time she had taken the child he thought of as a daughter. He had already suffered enough and Jamie had no score to settle there. 

“I ken ye for a decent man. I bear ye no ill will.”  
He said defiantly, raising his chin against the wind and ignoring the veil of thick red hair which temporarily obscured his vision as the breeze caught it.

Still a thought niggled at the back of his mind. What if Frank was not the man Brianna remembered? It was reasonable to think that he might have moved on and though Claire thought he could not have his own children, perhaps he had married a widow and built a life that would not have room for Brianna. What then? Jamie shook his head and pressed the heel of his hand into the centre of his forehead. If Frank no longer wanted Brianna than there would be nothing to pull her through and nowhere for her to turn if she got there. Jamie swallowed audibly and opened his eyes glaring out across the water half expecting to see the slim-built historian gazing across at him.

“Aye, I bear ye no ill will; but if she comes to ye and ye turn her away, I will wait for ye at the gates of Hell for as long as it takes ye bastard. I’ll wait there and pulverise ye and leave ye begging for the Devil to save ye!” 

*So ye’re goin’ to let her go then?*  
The little voice asked and Jamie shrugged irritably. He could stop her for a time, lock her in her room and board the window to prevent her stealing away in the night but for how long? If she was determined to leave there would be nothing her could do to prevent it in the long run. 

*What about honour thy father?*  
Jamie snorted. Aye what about it? Did he follow his father’s teachings to the letter? Had he ever done so as a grown man? No. He followed as best he could and tried to live the life Brian would have wanted for him but ultimately Jamie Fraser had lived his life on his own terms and how could he expect his child to do differently? Claire’s child for that matter.

*Ah yes. What about your wife! What of her role?*  
Jamie stiffened. He had thought that thinking about Claire would be painful but he found that it was simply like thinking of ones right hand instead of ones left. The two of them were best as one and worked together in all things. She had been caught between her daughter and her husband and what could he have expected her to do? Run from the house screaming for him whilst dragging Brianna by the ear? No. Claire had done as she always did and always would do, she had tried to keep the peace and find the balance in a house full of Fraser tempers. Jamie could not fault her for that and would neither punish her, nor quarrel with her over it. 

Still the voice persisted:

*What if ye never see Brianna again?*  
This time Jamie found he had no rebuttal. He sat and tried to find thoughts that might ease the ache in his heart and still the tremors of his hands but there were none. Suddenly he remembered his mother, her chin resting on his head in much the same way he had held Brianna earlier. The memory unfurled itself like a cat stretching out after a long sleep and Jamie remembered the crushing sense of loss his young self had felt. It had been Willie. He had been greeting for his brother and his mother had scooped him up and rocked him until he came to himself again.

“There are those feelings ye can put logic to Jamie, and those that are beyond sense. Grief and love are two of the latter. Hate is another. When we grieve we pour out our sorrow and there is no shame in it, but it can leave us empty. Breathe through it my darling one, breathe through it and remember the time ye had together.”

Jamie tasted salt as the tears ran into his mouth and slowly curled over onto his side and pressed his cheek to the earth. When the cramp in his guts began to ease and he felt that he had no more tears to cry for the moment, he got to his feet and began to walk home to Claire.  
*  
“Jamie!”  
She met him at the gate, eyes frantic with worry.  
“You’re soaked!”

“Aye and cold too. Brianna …?”

“She’s in the house, helping Jenny with the beds.”

“Ah. Keeping busy then?”  
Jamie smiled faintly and allowed Claire to press herself to his chest.

“I’m so sorry Jamie, I didn’t know how to handle any of it. Bree …”

Jamie stilled her mouth with a kiss, soft and almost chaste.

“I dinna think many would ken how to deal wi’ this Sassenach.”

“I should have told you myself.”  
Claire stroked his face and leaned back to look at him properly.

“No, it was right to come from Brianna.”  
Jamie began moving toward the house, Claire falling into step beside him.

“What are you going to do?”  
She asked quietly and Jamie snorted despite himself.

“Damned if I ken Sassenach. Probably much the same as ye. Try to talk her round until my throat is hoarse and then send myself to an early grave wi’ worry if she willna listen.”

Claire nudged him and Jamie smiled down at her, his face lined with tiredness. 

“There are discussions to be had Claire, about all of this but for now I need to stop this chill in my arse and have something to eat. I canna promise I willna make another stramash later though.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to promise such a thing.”  
Claire took a deep breath and looked him squarely in the eye.  
“If you need to shout at anyone, let it be me Jamie. I know you must be furious and …”

Jamie grinned at her and shook his head, laughing  
“I am furious and terrified and Lord only ken’s what else but it isna a matter of faults.” 

“Oh. I thought you would … er…”

“Lose my temper? Aye. So I would have, but I went for a walk instead.”  
Jamie said dryly and it was Claire’s turn to laugh, pausing at the door with a hand on his arm as she tiptoed to kiss him.

“You’re a marvel James Fraser.”

“Mmmppphmm. Now please, feed me and get me some dry clothes. I have a feeling it will be a long evening.”


	6. Speak the Words I Long To Hear.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we see Jamie and Claire confront their fears together and also I resolve some of my own issues with book vs. show. *grins* (OK maybe not exactly resolve but ... express) H xx

Claire stood behind Jamie in the kitchen and slipped her hands beneath the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Her thumbs ran lightly over the top of the scarring, some of scar tissue still raised but some had smoothed over the years. He had stopped shivering long ago and the plate of roast beef and potato had been finished but they had quiet in the old kitchen and time to collect themselves before seeking out Brianna and neither were in any hurry to move.

“I’m sorry Jamie.”

She whispered and one large, calloused palm reached up to cover her hand in answer.

“We did talk about the possibility once, ken?”

“I know but …”

Claire stared over the top of her husband’s head gazing into the crackling flames of the kitchen fireplace. They danced and leapt upwards before flickering into nothingness and their last bright spark the exact colour of Brianna’s hair.

“Ye didna truly think it would happen?”

Jamie turned and looked up at Claire, his pupils large and eyes searching.

“No, I didn’t.”

Her voice was soft, barely a whisper in the quiet kitchen and for a moment Claire wondered if she was about to faint.

“I don’t know what to do.”

She said finally and Jamie nodded once.

“Aye, weel. That makes the two of us then.”

They remained silent for a few minutes and then Jamie grunted as if waking and gently pulled Claire round to sit on his lap, his chin resting on her shoulder.

“She shouldna go alone Sassenach.”

Claire stiffened and Jamie’s arms tightened around her.

“Jamie there is no way …”

“Hush mo nighean donn. I dinna mean to trick ye into a promise ye canna keep.”

Claire glared at him but his arms kept her pinned to her place.

“I already made you a promise James Fraser. I promised I would never leave you again and I mean to keep that promise!”

“Claire, do ye really think ye can let your daughter make this journey alone?”

“It is Bree’s choice. If she chooses to go then she will have to do it alone.”

Jamie shook his head

“If I could go wi’ her I would.”

Anger surged in Claire’s chest and she wrenched herself out of his arms, leaping up in a flurry of skirts and wild hair.

“Of course you bloody would! You and your bloody duty bound, honourable fucking way of living life would compel you to! Just as it compelled you to send us away so you could go off to die …”

Jamie’s eyes narrowed dangerously and Claire threw up her hands in frustration.

“Forget it. We have enough to contend with today.”

“I ken ye must harbour an ill feelin’ about Culloden Claire, my memories o’ the place are no’ too bonnie either …”

His voice was low and soft but it lashed like a whip all the same.

“I know! I know you hate thinking of it and I do too, but DAMN YOU, JAMIE! At least you had a choice! You were not just taken to … to an abyss and shoved through it!”

Jamie stiffened; his back going ram-rod straight and his eyes glittered in the firelight.

“As I recall ye ran to the stones whilst I fought off a couple o’ soldiers or do I remember it wrong? Did I maybe walk ye to the rock face and press ye to it myself?”

“Yes, alright, I bloody ran! With the feel of your touch still on my skin and my lips bruised from your kiss I ran.”

“So ye canna verra well claim to ha’ been shoved through!”

Jamie snapped and Claire had to suppress a scream.

“We shouldn’t have even BEEN there Jamie! We should never have been there! I wanted us to go away, together. That was what I wanted but you and your bloody pride…”

Claire’s voice cracked but she forced back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. She would not cry, not now – she needed to make Jamie hear her.

Jamie took a deep breath through his nose and let it out slowly and evenly. Claire had never spoken to him about that day but he had always known it would come up between them one day, how could it not?

“So ye blame me for it.”

It was not a question and Claire gave it no answer and so he pressed on.

“When I was in the cave, I had more time to think than any man could ever want,”

Jamie spread his hands on his knees. He wanted to stand and pace but stopped himself from doing so, he would not loom over his wife and risk bullying her, not over this.

“So I thought. About you, about the bairn. I thought of what could have been had I listened to ye and taken us to France, had I ignored my pride and my duty and left the men to their own fates. I thought about it and my God! I wished I had done it! I wished I had abandoned it all and taken ye and run and I cursed mysel’ for no’ doin’ so.”

Jamie looked up from his lap and stared at Claire, letting her see the truth of his words etched in the lines of his face.

“I wept and raged o’er it, Claire. But one thing hung in the balance, I had given ye a chance o’ safety, both o’ ye and that thought kept me from goin’ mad wi’ grief and sorrow.”

Jamie shook his head and blinked away the tears that gathered in his eyes. He would not let himself weep, not now – he needed to make Claire hear him.

“I ken that this is my fault Sassenach and I dinna shy from it. But it doesna mean Brianna doesna need ye now too. I sacrificed my love for ye for her safety once, I will find the strength to do it again.”

Claire stood looking at him for a moment, fists balled at her sides. Jamie had beaten her once and she had slapped his face many more times than that and considered adding one more time to the list.

“If you try to send me away from you again, I will never forgive you.”

She spoke each word clearly, making sure that she could not be misheard.

“Claire …”

“We cannot change the past and you’re right, you didn’t out right force me through the stones, but you will not send me away again.”

“I wasna tryin’ to…”

“You. Will. Not.”

Claire levelled a finger at him directly and Jamie was taken back through the years to his wild young wife, straddling him, her bruised arse resting on his thighs as she held a dirk to his chest and threatened to cut out his heart should he strike her again. She had meant her words then and he knew she meant them now.

“Do you hear me?”

“I hear ye Sassenach.”

He smiled slightly and stood, catching her wrist lightly and drawing her to him.

“Ye are master o’ ye own destiny. Lord knows ye ha’ proved it often enough!”

Claire smiled against his chest and held on as if for dear life.

“You are my home Jamie, no matter what.”

“I know.”

“I love Brianna but I just … I can’t go Jamie … I won’t go.”

Jamie pressed his cheek to the top of her head and nodded against her.

“And what about Robbie? I could never just …”

“He might be able to … travel.”

Jamie clipped the word off as Claire began trembling against him, the last of her considerable courage folding inwards.

“Please Jamie, please do not speak about this again. We can plan for Bree, she wants to go. But I can’t think of leaving you and I will not risk Robert. I can’t risk both my children.”

Jamie held her closely until her frame stopped shuddering and then gently stood her up, proud to see that her eyes were dry.

“It will be alright mo graidh. It will all be alright.”

Claire smiled shakily and bobbed her head. Jamie smiled back

“What I said before; I didna mean to offend ye Sassenach, I ken ye are no’ the sort o’ person to be led.”

“I wasn’t offended you bloody great … Scot!”

Claire smiled despite herself

“I …”

She looked up at her husband and the words which clogged her throat eased, flowing out as easily as breath.

“I am a healer and that is my calling Jamie. You made me a mother and it has been greater than any gift I could have imagined but the truth is that my heart beats for you. I would shatter into a thousand tiny pieces without you by my side. I know this because it happened before and I will not live that way again. I love you Jamie.”

Claire finished and drew a breath smiling at him, then laughed at the dumbfounded expression on his face.

“What? You’re not the only one capable of romantic expression you know!”

Jamie nodded mutely and cleared his throat.

“Och aye, I ken that fine Sassenach. It’s only that ye have never … I mean … Thank ye Claire.”

Jamie kissed her cheek gently and for a moment the warmth between them hovered in the air like dust shimmering in the sun.


	7. Peas in Pods.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sort of bridge chapter. There has, understandably, been a lot of angst in this story. I write from the feels a lot of the time and this has been no exception but now as we pass half way, things must begin to heal and they do so slowly. Please bear with myself and my Fraser angst a little longer. :) xx

Jamie moved a lock of dark hair from Robbie’s forehead and smiled at the wee lad curled against his chest. It was unusual for Robbie to fall asleep before his bedtime and still more so for him to choose Jamie as his lean-to of choice. Normally if he were sick or particularly tired he would hunker down with Claire and Jamie could admit (to himself at least) that he felt a twinge of satisfaction that he had been selected tonight.

The room was dimly lit, the candles burning low and although not exactly cold, there was a chill in the air. Jamie wrapped an arm around his son and drew him a little closer. His own eyes felt gritty and heavy with sleep. Claire was sat on the settee, stroking Bree’s hair as the girl dozed beside her. Both women had their eyes closed but Jamie knew Claire was not truly asleep, she was just enjoying a moment of respite. He didn’t blame her. The conversation had begun just after supper and gone round and round and back and forth for hours on the logistics and parental concerns. Then Claire and Bree had spent a time speaking of things Jamie could not comprehend. Schools he had not heard of, cities he did not know of, clothing he could not picture… He and Robbie had sat side by side listening and trying to follow their conversation and chiming in where they could. At one point after a particularly confusing piece of information surrounding ‘telephones’ that had Jamie sinking back into his chair utterly confused, Robbie had looked up at his father and grinned.

“Dinna fash Da, I never ken what ladies are goin’ on about.” 

Jamie smiled to himself and looked down his nose at the sleeping boy. He was getting bigger and the small hands which Jamie had guided to hold fishing rods and tie boot laces were broadening already, the fingers lengthening with the promise of strength and power in the years to come.

His face was changing also, no longer round and soft like a wee bairn, he was beginning to develop the knife edge Fraser nose and the slant of those golden eyes was becoming more prominent too.

Jamie looked back to his daughter and his throat felt suddenly dry.

“I would give my life to see ye safe mo nighean.”

He whispered and shook his head. Such sentiments were useless, he knew that but what words could possibly express the unconditional love of a parent for a child? What could he offer her that would help her understand all the fear and the anger he was feeling came from a place of love?

“She knows.”

Jamie jerked his head and found Claire’s eyes, glowing copper in the candlelight, fixed on him with a small smile on her face as she read his expression.

“She knows.”

Claire repeated softly.

“I truly hope so Sassenach.”

Jamie sighed and stood up lifting Robbie with him.

“You’re angry with me.”

Claire cocked her head to the side and Jamie smiled ruefully as he turned his back and laid his son gently down on the settee he had vacated.

“I wouldna say I’m angry Sassenach. I suppose perhaps I am a wee bit jealous. Ye ken the world that our daughter is goin’ to. I dinna ken it and I can do nothing to prepare her for it. I canna see ahead to any dangers and I canna offer any advice.”

Jamie shrugged and silently padded over to his wife.

“I am glad she has someone to guide her in this folly but … I wish I it was me.”

Claire mulled his words over. Her first feeling was that of annoyance. Why should she not be the one to guide their daughter? Why did Jamie always want to control everything so badly?

*Because he is a born leader and protector. It is his nature.*

She thought and with the realisation her annoyance began to fade.

“I know and I am sorry. All of this is … well it’s a lot to bear.”

“If ye bed wi’ a vixen…”

Jamie quipped and then glanced guiltily at Robbie, making sure the lad was still asleep.

“Jamie.”

The reproach in Claire’s voice brought a faint blush to his face and he hunched his shoulders guiltily.

“I apologise Sassenach, I did say as that I might make a stramash later but I didna intend to insult ye.”

Claire shrugged and stood up, easing Brianna from her shoulder.

“I wasn’t insulted, or not very anyway.”

She stretched her arms over her head and yawned

“But if you intend to have it out with me about whether or not I am an auld one or fae, I would just as soon we get it out of the way.”

Jamie smiled and looked down at his feet.

“No, I dinna intend to do that. It never mattered to me what ye are Claire, and it doesn’t matter now. It’s just …”

He ran a hand tersely through his hair before looking up at Claire with a mixture of pride and exasperation

“D’ye ken when Brianna was eleven and tripped trying to jump the garden fence? She came runnin’ into the house, wailin’ and filthy and blood pourin’ from the cut on her head…”

Jamie broke off with a small shudder

“There was sae much blood and ye were sae calm. Ye had her patched up and laughin’ about the whole thing in minutes.”

Claire nodded and raised an eyebrow at her husband. It had been one of Brianna’s worse scrapes but had really just been a nasty graze on her scalp that had not been anywhere near as bad as it had first seemed.

“I remember.”

“Aye, weel, whilst ye were pressing cloths to her heid and checkin’ she could see an’ remember sums and such I was frozen in the doorway torn between vomiting and hacking the damn fence down.”

Claire chuckled softly and ran a hand down his arm

“You weren’t that bad! You helped sponge the wound to clear the blood.”

“Once ye told me what to do but when she first ran in … Christ! I was rooted like a tree Claire.”

Jamie looked toward Brianna and Claire knew that his eyes were roaming over the tumbled mass of her hair beneath which a small scar ran in a jagged line.

“I feel like that now. Ye are movin’ to help her and I am frozen wi’ fear and completely at a loss of what to do.”

Claire caught Jamie’s hand in her own and traced her thumb over the large calloused knuckles.

“You’re willing to help her Jamie, what else there is to do will be figured out as we go but what she needs now, all she has ever needed, is your love and willingness to try.”

“Mmmpphmm. She has that, Sassenach.”

Still holding his hand Claire drew him to the floor and stretched out with Jamie at her back.

“Can we stay here for a little while? I don’t want to disturb them and I don’t want to leave them.”

Jamie pulled Claire tightly to him and rested his chin lightly on her head.

“Of course mo nighean donn.”

*

Jamie woke in the near darkness, all but one candle had gone out and in the muddled moments before he became fully awake he was aware of a warmth at his back and a half memory of sleeping in the woods as a bairn with his Da at his back keeping him warm, surfaced. Jamie smiled and blinked a couple of times realising that a hand was resting on his shoulder. He reached up and covered the hand with his own, still half expecting the broad, blunt fingers of his father’s hand. The fingers beneath Jamie’s own were long and slim like Claire’s but larger and radiating warmth.

He turned slightly, just enough to see the edge of Bree’s sleeve and sighed contentedly turning back to Claire. He breathed in the scent of her hair, drawing it in deeply. Along with her usual herby smell Jamie detected hay and horses and squinted in the darkness. Sure enough he could just about make out a riot of dark curls tucked below Claire’s own chin and the ghostly glow of Robbie’s shirt.

Jamie grinned in the darkness. If Jenny should come down and find the four of them wrapped up in each other like pups in a new litter she would doubtless think them all mad.

*Aye and who is to say she’s wrong?*

He thought, still smiling.

*A man who should have been dead many times over, curled on the floor of his house wi’ his faerie wife and half-fae weans, grinning like a loon in the darkness.*

He tried to control the rumbling of his chest, not wanting to wake the others with his laughter but a couple of quiet snorts managed to escape all the same and he buried his face in Claire’s hair.

“Da?”

Bree’s voice was clear and not the muddled tones of sleep

“I’m sorry a leannan. I was away wi’ my own foolishness.”

Bree sat up and her movement let a draft chill Jamie’s back. They stood together and looked down at the two dark haired Fraser’s still asleep by the hearth.

“They’re like peas in a pod.”

Bree mused and Jamie wrapped an arm lightly around her shoulders

“Aye, as are we.”

Brianna looked up at her father, only inches difference in their height now, and wondered when he had stopped seeming like a giant and become a man. She knew it had happened but she couldn’t pin point exactly when.

“Do you hate me a little Da? For what I’m doing?”

“Never.”

Jamie shook his head and pressed a kiss to her temple, his hand strong and certain on her arm.

“I hate myself for it.”

Bree whispered and felt rather than heard her father’s answering sigh.

“Ye are doin’ as ye feel right, Brianna. No one, man or woman, can ever do more than that.”

“Mama said that too.”

“Weel, she’s a wise woman, your mother.”

Jamie kissed Brianna again and let go of her.

“Do ye think ye can carry Robbie if I lift ye Mam? I’d sooner see them in bed than down here for the night.”

“Of course.”

Bree bit her lip as the dim shape of her father stepped forward and before she had time to really think about her action, she reached forward and gripped his sleeve, pulling him back.

“Br..Oh!”

Jamie’s arms went instinctively around Brianna as she threw her arms about his neck and hugged him as tightly as she was able.

“You are the best father I could ever have wished for. I love you so much Da and I want you to know that I am proud to be your daughter.”

She whispered and pressed a fierce kiss to her Da’s cheek, heedless of day old stubble that scratched her lips.

Jamie blinked a couple of time and bobbed his head, not quite trusting his voice but Bree had not spoken to get a similar sentiment, she had spoken because the words needed to be said and once she had said them, she stepped back and gathered Robbie into her arms, carrying him soundlessly towards his bedroom, her back straight and strong. Just like her father.


	8. The First Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck with me this far and for continuing to read my work! As always please do feel free to let me know your thoughts on this or any other pieces. Happy Wednesday! Han xx

The weeks flew by and Brianna found herself in a whirlwind of activity. Aunt Jenny had made her a set of clothes to Claire’s specifications and Uncle Ian had gone through the Gaidhlig with her more often than he ever had before. When Bree finally asked him why he had smiled, dark eyes crinkling, and said

“So ye might remember us lass! It’s a far way ye are goin’ and ye’ll be glad to ha’ the Gaidhlig to talk to ye Da when ye feel the need.”

Her mother too filled her head with useful and practical tidbits that had been picked up over the course of her life. From how to speak to a man to how to tie a sling and all manner of things in between. Claire had given her daughter all the tools she could to make her way in the world. Bree did her best to listen and commit as much of it as possible to memory and it was in the middle of a dream in which she was pummeling herbs whilst reciting a Buddy Holly song in Gaelic that her father gently shook her awake.

“Brianna, it’s time lass. Get dressed.”

Bree opened her eyes in the still darkness of her bedroom and for a moment terror clutched her heart in a vice. She might never wake in this bed again.

“It’ll be well a leannan.”

She turned to the sound of her father’s voice only to see the dim outline of his back retreating and the sound of his boots, firm on the stairs.

Bree dressed hurriedly, her hands trembling intermittently as she tugged on the close fitting trousers that had made her aunt Jenny blush, under the skirts of her regular dress. She ran over the checklist of items in her bag again and recited the name and address of the old reverend her mother had assured her would help. The sound of the stone was already reverberating in her ears, a distant, almost forgotten wail that made her shudder.

She dragged a comb through her hair and then gave it up as a lost cause, a hard days ride would soon ruin any decent style she managed anyway.

Stumbling down the stairs, Bree smiled at the soft glow of light coming from under the kitchen door. She remembered being ten years old and sitting just in front of that door with Ian, the smell of strawberry tarts wafting out to them under that same wee crack. Ian! Oh God, would she ever see him again? He had gone to the US … to the Americas, Bree corrected herself, to seek his own adventures not six months ago. Bree hadn’t even thought to write him a letter.

The door opened and her mother, dressed in her old homespun dress that some how picked up all the gold and silver strands of her hair, gently tugged her inside

“It’ll be fine, love.”

She murmured, her words an echo of her father’s earlier sentiment. Bree blinked, her eyes adjusting to the light and found with the exception of Robbie, the entire household was gathered around the table, most still dressed in nightshirts and thick socks.

“You didn’t all have to get up!”

She looked towards her Uncle Ian, his hair now more grey than brown and felt guilt tug at her core. They all looked tired and they looked sad in the dour, stoic kind of way Bree had come to admire about them all so. Fergus stood from his graceful slouch and deftly swept her chair out, bowing low as he gestured for her to sit.

“S'il vous plait, asseyez vous mon petite rouge.”

Bree grinned at him and gave his hand a gentle squeeze as she took her seat. Petite Rouge had begun as an affectionate pet name for her on the first night he and Rabbie found Bree and Claire in the woods but as Bree grew in height, finally outstripping Fergus, it had become a sort of running joke between them.

The breakfast was simple but thoroughly good as it always had been. Jenny found a myriad of excuses to gently touch Bree’s arm or neaten her hair as she circled the table, offering more food and tea until eventually Ian caught her wrist and bade her to sit.

The conversation flowed easily and lightly, and when the meal was finished Bree helped carry out plates and dishes whilst the men saw to the horses. It felt almost like any other working day at Lallybroch, except for the small satchel by the front door which contained Brianna’s items for the journey. There wasn’t much in it, her mother had advised not trying to carry much through for most got destroyed during the crossing, but there were a couple of bits that Brianna could not bear to leave behind.

With the last of the plates cleared, Claire took Brianna’s hand and guided her to one side.

“Would you like to have a last wander through the house?”

Bree licked her lip and then shook her head solidly once

“No, I don’t need to. I’ll see it again soon.”

Claire nodded and hastily looked away toward the courtyard but not before Bree noticed the film of moisture over her eyes.

“Mama…”

“Hush. Let’s not, hmm? If you get me going, I won’t stop and what a sight that would be!”

Claire smiled brightly and with her chin held high, led the way outside.

Despite the morning chill everyone was by the horses and Brianna seriously considered calling everything off and just returning to her bed to wake up with the rest of her family around her when the sun was fully up and everything seemed brighter.

She looked towards her parents, but both were facing studiously away from her. Her father gazing intently at the roof of the old house as if looking for a troublesome slate and her mother fiddling with a loose thread on her skirts.

It was Jenny who came to Bree’s rescue as she had so many times over the course of the years.

“Right, weel, ye canna write to us while ye are away so I can’t demand that ye do but ye keep safe, keep warm and make sure as that ye say ye prayers every night before ye sleep.”

She commanded, almost folding Brianna in half as she tiptoed to wrap her niece in a tight embrace

“And if ye do forget to say a prayer, just say two the next day.”

Ian joked, coming to stand beside Brianna.

“Och! Away wi’ ye Ian Murray!”

Jenny scolded and stepped away from Brianna, fumbling her handkerchief. Bree hugged Ian tightly, feeling the lean muscle of his arms, hard as steel beneath his jacket.

“See if ye can bring me back one o’ those wee ‘fountain pens’ that ye Da had, it ran out o’ ink a few years back and the ledgers have been a state ever since. I got spoilt by it!”

Ian grinned into collar of Bree’s coat and then, standing back cupping her face in his palms he placed a kiss on her forehead.

“Beannachdan oirbh, mo naoidheachan”

“Thank you Unlce Ian.”

Bree blinked rapidly and dashed a hand across her eyes. Jenny sniffed heavily and gave Brianna one final bone crushing hug

“Now, this cold is making my eyes stream. Ye hurry up and come home to us as ye can, aye?”

Her voice cracked on the word ‘home’ and Ian wrapped an arm about her shoulders.

“We’ll go on inside. Take care Brianna.”

“Take care.”

Bree called after them at a loss for what else to say. Fergus hurried forward and seized Bree in an embrace that made Jenny’s look weak and lifted her bodily off her feet.

“You are the one of the lights of Lallybroch and without you the place shall shine a little less brightly.”

“I will come home, I promise I will.”

Bree could feel her composure slipping as Fergus gave her his most winning smile

“I believe that one can never truly leave their home, Petite. We are with you and you with us always.”

“Oh Fergus!”

Bree buried her face in the waves of thick black hair that fell around her adoptive brother’s shoulders and breathed in the scent of Lallybroch, trying to force the memory of screaming stone away.

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Aye ye do. Come, Graidhe. I have ye.”

Jamie lifted Bree gently up and turned her into his own chest.

“I willna force ye one way or the other Brianna, ye have my support whatever ye choose.”

“I don’t know what to do Da.”

She sobbed, the solid weight of her father’s chin resting lightly on her head as his hands smoothed up and down her back.

“Then we will go and decide along the way. It will be no bother to turn back should ye wish.”

Brianna nodded and wiped her nose on the handkerchief Fergus held out.

“Will you say goodbye to Robbie for me when he wakes up? I couldn’t … I just …”

Fergus nodded

“I will tell him goodbye for now from you. Do not worry about a thing.”

Bree hastily crossed to Aoileann before she could lose her resolve again. She mounted alongside her parents and all three horses fell into step at Jamie’s command.

“BREE! BREE WAIT!”

Bree turned in her saddle, her mouth a silent O of surprise. Robbie was sprinting across the courtyard, his head bowed against the wind and bootlaces flapping from one side to the other. Jamie uttered a muffled curse and swung down out of the saddle, striding toward his son.

“What are ye doing?”

He called as if the answer wasn’t perfectly obvious

“I’m coming with ye!”

“No ye’re not! I told ye…”

Jamie lunged forward and caught Robbie under the arms as he finally trod on one of his boot laces and pitched forward.

“I want to come Da!”

“I told ye that ye are no’ comin’ near Craigh Na Dun. Ye are too small and it is too dangerous.”

“But …”

“No.”

Jamie stood the boy up and fixed him with the sternest paternal gaze he had. Robbie pushed his hair angrily out of his eyes and wrenched his arm out of Jamie’s grip and glared up at him, small chin stuck pugnaciously out and golden eyes flashing.

“I want to come!”

Jamie could feel his temper beginning to flare but even as anger heated his blood he felt a warmth of a different kind spread through his chest at the memory of Claire, a strange lass in a torn shift refusing to get back on a horse with him until he threatened to pick her up bodily, at further risk to his damaged shoulder.

“She’s my sister! Ye wouldna like it if ye couldna say goodbye to aunty Jenny would ye?”

Robbie demanded, the colour high in his cheeks – a mirror of Jamie’s own.

“I’m no eight years old, Raibairt.”

“Jamie,”

Both male Fraser’s whirled round at the sound of Claire’s voice.

“Let him come, it’s not fair to leave him behind.”

Jamie’s nostrils flared and Claire saw the utter terror in his eyes at the thought of having all three of them near the stone’s at once, but gradually he nodded all the same.

“Alright, but ye are no’ riding alone. Ye ride wi’ me.”

Jamie snapped, pointing his index finger at Robbie who was still eyeing him with considerable distaste.

“And ye do exactly as ye are told. Understood?”

“Aye.”

Robbie held himself stiffly and Claire had to smother a laugh as father and son stalked towards Jamie’s horse, shoulder’s set in identically combative stances and jaws clenched against ill temper.

“Dinna try me too high today Robert. I’m in no mood.”

Jamie warned boosting his son up into the saddle. Robbie gave his Da a sidelong look before turning his own ire toward Bree.

“Ye promised ye wouldna leave wi’out tellin’ me!”

“I did tell you, you knew!”

Bree shrugged guiltily

“Aye last night – why didn’t ye wake me this morning?”

“Because I didna want ye doin’ anything daft like this. Dinna hound ye sister.”

Jamie grunted, climbing up behind Robbie and settling his plaid around them both.

“Well we’re all here now aren’t we?”

Claire said, drawing her mare alongside the others

“Can we try to get along?”

“Mmmphm.”

Father and son grunted in unison and despite themselves Claire and Bree fell about laughing.

Robbie looked from his mother and sister, to his father, craning his neck to see his face and held out one small hand

“Truce then?”

Jamie snorted before allowing himself to smile and shaking the proffered hand

“Aye truce.”

And together, all four Fraser’s rode out of Lallybroch, on the road to Craigh na Dun.


	9. Arrival.

The three day ride was calm and like many other such journeys that the Fraser’s had taken. Robbie chatted away happily, through sunshine and showers both, and asked both his parents a myriad of questions which were answered with good humour and patience for the most part. Jamie encouraged Robbie to hold the reins and guide their mount over the less even ground, listening to the instructive clucks and gentle words the boy gave their horse, a faintly indulgent smile on his lips. 

The lack of a fourth horse proved to be less of a hindrance than Jamie had at first expected and after they had gone the first six miles or so of their journey, he had let go of his stern paternal countenance and allowed himself to simply enjoy the time spent with his youngest child.  
Claire and Bree rode behind, side by side, their conversation light and easy, the only hint that anything was amiss being the frequency with which Claire reached out and touched her daughter, her fingers lighter and cooler than the breeze, committing the texture of her daughter’s hair and the warmth of her skin to memory. 

 

“Mama!”  
Bree laughed and caught her mother’s hand as Claire rattled off yet another set of directives for driving an automobile whilst smoothing Brianna’s plait.  
“I’ll never remember all this!”

 

“I’m sorry. It just feels like there is so much to tell you. When …”  
Claire paused and then gave a small shrug of her shoulder clearly deciding to press on with her train of thought.  
“When I first arrived here it was quite terrifying. I just want to try and prepare you as much as I can.”

 

“You have Mama. At least as much as anyone could. I’m so grateful to you.”

Bree kept her eyes on her mother’s hand as she spoke. They had very similar hands, long and elegant although Bree had square shaped nails like her father. She wondered suddenly if she would ever hold her mother’s hands again after she made her journey and hurriedly pushed the thought back into the part of her mind that she had dubbed as thoroughly off limits.

 

“I am sure you know but I’ll say it anyway: I am so very, very proud of you Brianna and I am going to miss you terribly. However,”  
Claire tipped Bree’s chin upwards with her spare hand and gave her a smile that lit her face completely and offset the sorrow in her words.  
“You are the most accomplished, determined and strong young woman. I have no doubt that you will set the world aflame Bree and when you are ready, if you choose, you will make a wonderful wife and mother.”

 

“Thank you Mama.”  
Bree said thickly, it was the first time they had actually spoken of missing each other and the pain it caused was sharp and cutting. Claire cocked her head to the side surveying Brianna forthrightly.

 

“We have never really had ‘the’ talk have we?”

 

“What do you mean?”  
Bree asked, still gathering herself.

 

“Well … um … are you clear on how … ah … how sex works?”

 

“MAMA!”  
Bree glared at her mother, face turning crimson and Claire held up her hands defensively.

 

“Alright, sorry!”

 

“I’ve spent half my life on a farm and my mother is a healer! Of course I know how THAT works!”  
Bree grumbled, returning her eyes to the track ahead. 

 

“You’d be surprised. I once knew a young man who spent his whole life on a farm and thought people did it like horses.”

 

Bree laughed despite herself and grinned across at Claire.  
“Who was that?!”

 

Claire bit her lip and Bree gasped at the look of mischief in her mother’s eyes, fixed on the broad expanse of her father’s back 

 

“NO?!”  
Bree’s grin widened   
“Da?!”

 

“Aye?”  
Jamie called without turning and mother and daughter stared at each other for a moment before falling about laughing. Jamie reined in and waited for them, a smile on his face.  
“What are the two of ye laughin’ about?”

“Horses.”  
Bree cackled causing Claire to snort and double over in the saddle again.

“Oh, of course. I hear they are the most humorous of creatures.”

Jamie said dryly and exchanged a look with Robbie that clearly said he was glad the Fraser men did not find livestock quite so amusing.  
*

 

As evening drew near Claire took in the woods and hills around them, clearly visible in the setting sun and the hairs on the back of her neck stood rigid. She looked to Jamie and noticed that his right arm was now protectively around Robbie’s middle and the reins were held securely in his left hand. The set of his shoulders and expression on his face were studiously neutral but there was a certain wariness in his eyes that told Claire she was not wrong: they were approaching Craigh na Dun. 

 

“Shall we set camp?”  
Claire called. Jamie twisted in the saddle, loose strands of hair blowing back from his face in fiery tendrils, face unreadable.

 

“There is the hut a wee bit further on if ye prefer to be under shelter?”

 

Bree looked between her parents and her heart beat quickened  
“We’re here?”

 

“Aye lass, we are.”  
Jamie spoke gently in the voice Bree associated with skittish horses and she carefully slackened her grip on the reins, realising the leather was biting into her palms.

 

“Do you think the cabin is still viable?”  
Claire looked up the hill, the stones were still out of view but she could see the roof of the old shelter looming out of the twilight.

 

“I dinna ken, but it will likely rain later and it has a bit of a roof at least.”  
Jamie smiled wonkily at her and Claire noticed that he was unusually pale. 

 

“Alright.”  
She nodded and smiled brightly at Brianna  
“A roof! What unexpected luxury!”

 

Bree’s lips twitched at the joke but her complexion was as waxy as her father’s as they began the ascent.  
*

 

The hut had not changed and Claire wondered quietly to herself if it was not somehow linked to the stones themselves, some sort of ancient, weatherproof structure that had seen more centuries than she could imagine.   
Jamie tethered the horses outside and carried their saddlebags in with Robbie.

 

“Can I go and have a look around?”

 

“No, ye Mam will want ye to help her set up the room shortly.”

 

“A quick look then?”

 

“No.”  
Jamie said flatly, dropping the last bag onto the dusty floorboards. Robbie didn’t argue further but as he wandered to the door and craned his head to look up the hill, Jamie eyed his son frankly and wondered if it might be prudent to tether the lad to him with a length of rope. 

 

“Will ye help me find the candles?”  
He called and Robbie obediently returned to his side, dropping to a crouch and unbuttoning his mother’s satchel where he knew they were stashed.

“Ye agreed to do as ye were told if I let ye come, aye?”

Jamie said nonchalantly as Robbie handed the little wax sticks up to him. 

 

“Aye Da.”  
Robbie all but sighed and Jamie nodded to himself as he set the candles and patted his pockets down, searching for his flint.

 

“Stay close to me or your mother at all times – dinna wander off on your own.”

 

“I wasna goin’ to wander far!”  
Robbie protested; arms flung wide in exasperation. 

 

“I should hope not but if I canna count on ye to do as I say, I’ll have to bind my wrist wi’ one end o’ a rope and yours wi’ the other like I did when ye were a wean.”

 

Robbie grimaced at the thought of such an indignity and scuffed his boot on the ground.

 

“I’ll stay close Da, I promise.”

 

“Good.”  
Jamie nodded and ruffled his hair lightly, judiciously ignoring the eye roll this gesture elicited. He didn’t blame Robbie for being frustrated; the lad was used to having a free reign of Lallybroch and having only to return by sundown from any adventure he was on, this sudden curfew of his liberties was bound to be an unwanted turn of events but Jamie would not budge from it all the same. He would not risk Robert wandering too close to the stones and … he shuddered as a chill ran down his spine and brusquely returned to the task of lighting the candles.  
*

 

As Claire and Robbie set up the hut for the night, Bree and Jamie went into the woods to hunt. The evening was only beginning to draw in but Bree was grateful to be out of the saddle and hunting whilst there was still decent light to see.   
Tomorrow she would be back in the world of electric lights and nifty hand-held torches, safe bulbs powered by batteries, not flames. Her mind boggled at the thought of it all, especially the thought of not having to hunt or farm for food – although Da took care of most such things, Bree could only vaguely remember what it was like to have fully stocked cupboards with colourfully wrapped food bought from a store and a cool fridge to store meat in for days and days without worry.  
Bree glanced at her father’s back as he walked ahead of her. He would never know such things, his way of life and his skills were all based in this world and she felt a twinge of guilt for heading toward a sphere he could never be a part of.

 

“It’s such a beautiful evening.”  
She said, as much to distract herself as to break the silence.

 

“Aye, it is.”  
Jamie nodded and paused in his step turning to watch her, to drink in the lines of her face and the grace of her movement.

 

“I never used to be able to feel the sun on days like this. Scotland always seemed so cold when I arrived.”  
She murmured and Jamie startled 

 

“Did it?”

 

“Uh-huh. I don’t know when it began to feel like home, but it does now. It’s like I’m part of it, you know?”

 

“You are part of it mo chridhe. Our people have lived here for hundreds of years … and hundreds more to come no doubt.”

 

Jamie shrugged self-consciously and smiled at his daughter  
“Ye may meet a Fraser or a Murray on these lands when ye go back.”

 

“I hope so.”  
Bree opened her eyes and as they caught the setting sun, Jamie noticed it cloaked them in the same deep gold colour as Claire’s.

 

“If I do, I’ll tell you about it when I come back.”  
Bree promised. Jamie nodded mutely before setting down the fowling piece he carried and stretching his arms above his head, limbering up as if readying for some unpleasant task.  
“Do ye really think ye might come back then?”

 

“Of course!”  
Brianna paused and looked at the stony set of her father’s face, carefully devoid of emotion.  
“If I would be welcome?”

 

The question in her tone almost broke his resolve but Jamie had known that he must say what needed to be said and would not falter now.

 

“Ye will always be welcome Brianna, but I fear for you making the passage. Your mother says it becomes harder each time. She has done it three times; ye have done it twice already. To come back again would be a fourth…” 

 

Jamie broke off and squinted out across the hills

 

“I would have ye be safe mo graidh. More than anything in this world, I would have ye be safe.” 

 

“I know Da.”  
Bree still could not read his face and the fact that he was hiding himself from her was the most telling sign of his distress.

 

“Then also ken that as much as I will long for ye to return, I understand if ye cannot and that should this journey prove too difficult to face again, my deepest wish is for ye to remain and build a life there. Do not try to chance the stones a fourth time.”

 

Bree opened her mouth to protest but stopped. She understood what saying those words had cost her father, the toll it was taking on him. He was stood tall and straight as ever but there was tightness to his shoulders and the lines alongside his eyes and mouth seemed deeper than she remembered.

“Mama said when she left before that you marked each other. You gave her a J and she gave you a C.”

 

Jamie nodded and held out his hand, the tiny C shaped scar still visible, although faint.   
“Aye, although if ye mean to suggest we do the same …”

 

“We don’t have to! I just thought you might want to.”  
Bree spoke hurriedly and blushed and Jamie was reminded forcibly just how very young his daughter was. He shook his head and smiled at her, a small proud smile that he reserved just for his children.

 

“Wi’ ye mother it was different. I marked her as mine and she marked me as hers. You …”  
Jamie’s chest swelled and for a moment he felt sure he would burst with the force of his love for his daughter and scatter like dust on the wind.

 

“You are my child Brianna, my blood flows in your veins and you are in my heart, no matter the distance or the time. I can think o’ no greater mark than that.”

 

Bree nodded and swallowed heavily a couple of times. Jamie reached out and smoothed a stray lock of rich auburn hair, the same shade as his own, back behind her ear. 

 

“A bheil thu deiseil mo tapaidh nighean?”

 

Bree licked her lips and shuddered slightly as the sun dipped behind a cloud, dimming the strange orange light. It was the second time her father had asked if she was ready. She knew that if she asked her parents would take her home without comment and that no one at Lallybroch would think less of her for not going. But by that same token, if she turned back now, she would never have the mettle to mention it again. How could she do such a thing to her parents twice? 

 

“Chan eil fhios agam”  
She whispered and staring out across the wild plains of her home, caught in the agony of indecision.  
Jamie placed a hand gently on her shoulder and as Bree turned her head to face him the sun slipped out from its hiding place and once again lit her countenance in that peculiar light that brought out the unique beauty inherited from her mother, normally unseen beneath strong Fraser bones.

 

“I meant to give ye this later but …”  
He lifted one shoulder nonchalantly and reached inside his jacket. The solid silver of the old stag brooch glinted in the palm of his hand and Bree traced it reverently with her finger. She had seen it so many times growing up, pinned to her father’s chest for every grand occasion at Lallybroch, the metal brightly polished and gleaming with the proud defiance of their clan. 

 

“Je suis prest.”  
Jamie said softly and pinned the brooch onto Bree’s coat.

 

“Oh Da!”  
Bree pressed her lips together, terrified that any further attempt to speak would descend into sobs again but that this time she would not be able to stop. Jamie seemed to be feeling the same thing for he cleared his throat and simply said.

“I would just like ye to ken that never has a father been prouder of a daughter.”   
A movement caught both of their attention as a hare darted out of the shrubbery and both father and daughter composed themselves in the wake of its appearance.   
Jamie picked up his gun and smiled at Bree

 

“Come, before ye brother drives your mother mad wi’ grumbling about his belly.”  
Bree nodded and together they stepped into the undergrowth.  
*

 

Supper was eaten cheerfully, Claire had managed to find some mushrooms and a clutch of blackberries too whilst Bree and Jamie hunted, returning with three rabbits and a sizeable pigeon.   
Robbie helped skin the animals with a natural ease that Brianna had never quite mustered and bowed his head offering a swift blessing in Gaelic to each fallen creature.

 

“That’s a kind thing lad.”  
Jamie nodded approvingly and Robbie nodded sagely, his face serious. 

 

“We have to show gratitude for their lives don’t we Da?”

 

“Aye, we do.”  
Jamie smiled and placed a kiss on his son’s head.  
Claire watched father and son as they toiled together and sighed. She understood what Brianna’s choice cost Jamie, for she was paying the same price, but she also knew that he would bear it with stoicism and that when he needed to grieve he would go and do it alone.   
She wished she could have known Jamie before the Red Coats came to Lallybroch, before the floggings and his father’s death and all the other things that had hardened him. She pictured him, all flaming hair and flashy smiles, strutting the halls of the Universitie of Paris, a young man with the world at his feet eager for adventure.  
She looked at Robbie again and wondered if Jamie had been similar as a little boy. By all accounts a little bugger when the urge took him, but sweet and gentle with it. Claire felt a sudden tender longing to sweep him up and hold him to her whilst he was still small enough for her to do so and was half way to her feet when he looked up.

 

“Look Mam! A shooting star!”  
Robbie leapt up and pointed at the night sky where sure enough, a flash of white shot across the gathering darkness. 

 

“Quick! Make a wish!”  
Claire laughed and to her surprise, noticed that Bree and Jamie closed their eyes right along with Robbie. After a second, Claire allowed her own eyes to squeeze shut and made a wish that was rooted in the deepest part of her heart.   
*

 

No one had said it, but it was implicitly understood that Brianna would leave at first light. Claire and Robbie had laid all the sleeping mats down on the floor of the hut but even as the hours drew late Jamie stoked the fire outside and no one made any move to go inside. Eventually Robbie dropped off, sagging gently against his mother’s side until Jamie lifted him, settling him inside the shelter and drawing the thickest blanket over him, tucking it securely into place to ward off any drafts, before re-joining Claire and Brianna.

 

The three sat quietly, not knowing what to say that would not lead to an inevitable farewell and none of them were yet ready for goodbye. 

 

“Oh! I almost forgot!”  
Claire exclaimed suddenly and produced a hipflask from her skirt pocket.

 

“Ah, I see we both came prepared, Sassenach!”  
Jamie grinned reaching into his jacket and producing another

 

“Great minds …”  
Bree laughed and dipped a hand into her own coat. The gentle resonance of their combined laughter lifted the fog of melancholy that had begun to settle around them as Jamie raised his flask

 

“To my two wild and wandering lasses. Slante!”

 

They drank, Claire more deeply than the others as she tried to control her emotions.

 

“To my two red-headed loves, who each taught me the depths my heart could reach. Cheers!”

 

Jamie reached out and Claire’s squeezed Claire’s leg both in thanks and to give her strength for he knew that now in these last hours they needed to be strong for Brianna. The lass was torn in two and would not be able to keep her fragile resolve in the face of her mother’s grief. 

 

“To my parents, thank you for everything. You are my best example of everything I want to be.”

 

Brianna raised the hipflask again and then let out a small ‘oof’ as her mother seized her in the rib-squeaking hug.   
They broke apart sniffing and laughing a split second before the stones began to scream.


	10. Passing Through.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, here is part 10 of You Are My Home. This chapter is not the sort of fic I am used to writing as I am not normally an action bod, but it is good to break out and try something different now and then! *grins* I hope you will enjoy it.

Brianna stared wordlessly at her mother, her mouth a wide ‘O’ of shock and her hands pressed over her ears. The wind whipped around them, suddenly savagely cold and terrifying in its intensity and she knew that it must be making the eerie howling noise that had so frightened her as a child but all she could hear were the stones. The noise was not the buzzing that she remembered; it was a piercing screech of rage, a noise as old as time and just as relentless.

Her mother’s scarf, ripped away by a particularly violent gust, swirled momentarily overhead and then disappeared amongst the black clouds gathering above them. Bree felt as if she too would blow away as the sound hollowed her out, it was the feeling of being scattered into a billion tiny particles, the feeling of tearing through the fabric of time. She drew breath to scream and then Claire’s arms were around her, holding her tightly.

“I HAVE YOU! BREE, I HAVE YOU!”

Her mother’s voice, barely louder than a heartbeat reached through the noise; anchoring her mind as tightly as her hands anchored her body.

The wailing of the stones was still deafening but the sensation of being ripped apart was lessening, seeming to seep out of her pores and into something else … Brianna felt Claire’s arms slacken and looked up in time to see her eyes roll backwards in her head as she fainted.

“MAMA!”

Her father was on top of her, the billowing fabric of his shirt rippling in the wind as he used his body to shield both her and her mother from the elements but she managed to get an arm free and reached up and instinctively found the pulse in her mother’s throat, faster than usual but strong.

There was a noise like a pistol being fired overhead and rain began to lash down from the sky. The linen of Jamie’s shirt was plastered to his body within seconds and Bree felt her hair clinging wetly to her face and back. With the coming of the rain the screaming of the stones fell away to a thin, high pitched whining. Bree realised dimly that all three of them were on the ground some distance from the camp fire though she didn’t remember moving. She scrabbled to her knees and stared up the hill. The sky above the stones was blacker than any night she had ever known, utterly starless and only fleetingly pierced with white flashes of lightening that showed the stones, tall and impassive as ever. Jamie had been crouched protectively over Claire’s body, speaking in low, urgent Gaelic but as thunder clapped overhead, he seemed to come back to himself and glanced up at Brianna.

“Ciamar a tha thu?”

Jamie had not heard the screaming but the wind had been deafening enough and he was half wild with shock, English still not returned to him. Brianna nodded, her own voice having deserted her entirely.

“Mam? MAM!”

Robbie, who had been peering around the cabin door, sprinted across to them and dropped to his knees beside his father.

“What are ye doing out here, ye wee fool?”

Jamie snapped and immediately took a tight grip on the back of his shirt as if to keep him from blowing away. Robbie ignored his Da’s outrage and cupped his mother’s face in his hands, his fingers probing through the thick wet mass of her hair. Jamie looked round wildly as lightning struck one of the nearby trees with a flash of light that sent huge white dots skittering across his vision, momentarily blinding him.

When he looked down, the air around Claire’s face and Robbie’s hands appeared to be pulsing with soft blue light and Jamie shook himself like a wet dog, eyes squeezed shut. The wind was dropping and Robbie’s voice carried clearly.

“Da, the stones are singing – can ye hear them?”

“Singing?”

Claire’s voice drifted up from the ground and Jamie opened his eyes. The blue light was gone and Claire was pushing herself up onto her elbows, rain still streaming down her face. She felt as though electricity had replaced blood and bone in her body, as though she had tipped into the precipice of death and been hauled back on a tide of lightning. 

“It was a song, Mam. I dinna ken the words but it was …”

“Samhach, Raibairt.”

Jamie shushed him, cupping Claire’s cheek in his palm. Claire gripped his hand, sitting up fully. She could see the panic bubbling just below the surface of his calm exterior and didn’t blame him one bit. She felt a little close to hysteria herself and wondered absently if she was succumbing to hypothermia.

“I’m fine, it was just a faint.”

Jamie nodded and let out a long breath. Her skin was still the colour of pale butter but her eyes were alert, if a little frantic.

“Aye, I’m no’ surprised, I felt a bit queer myself. Can ye stand? We need to get inside.”

Claire tried to find her feet but her legs trembled feebly beneath her and gave way. Jamie let go of Robbie’s shirt and lifted her into his arms, holding her close to his chest. He was just as soaked as she was but as always his skin was warm and Claire turned gratefully into him, her teeth chattering.

Lightning flashed again and a movement caught his eye. Brianna was battling her way up the hill towards the stones, her head bowed and long hair streaming out behind her like a banner.

“BRIANNA!”

Jamie bellowed frantically, his eyes still trained on the flaming trail of her hair afraid to even blink for fear of losing her in the darkness that followed the flash. Claire grabbed his sleeve, digging her nails into his wrist to get his attention

“Go after Bree, Jamie!”

She ordered, now shivering so fiercely that the words came out wobbly and largely indiscernible but her grip was hard and sure. Jamie looked up the hill toward Brianna and then down at Claire’s face again, if he didn’t get her out of the cold and wet he would surely lose them both.

“Robert! Come wi’ me!”

Robbie shook his head and pointed up the hill, shouting something about fire which Jamie could not hear, his golden eyes shining silver in the lightning.

“GET INSIDE NOW!”

Jamie shouted, in a tone which had compelled both peasants and kings to immediate obedience and began running toward the cabin and kicked the door hard with the heel of his boot, sending it shooting back and blowing out two of the candles inside.

“Infrinn!”

Jamie cursed, laying Claire gently down and dashing a sleeve across his face.

“Robert get your mother a blanket …”

Jamie turned to where his son should have been and was confronted with an empty doorway looking out into one of the strangest and most horrific storms Jamie had ever encountered.

The panic which had been simmering earlier burst forth in an eruption of cold fury the likes of which Jamie had seldom experienced and he let rip a string of profanities that would have shocked even the hardiest of sailors.

“Dinna move!”

He commanded, piling blankets onto Claire and without waiting for an answer, dashed back out into the wind and rain, intending to haul the his son bodily to the cabin and tie him to any available object that was heavy enough to prevent him leaving it again until this was over and Jamie was calm enough to deal with the wee bastard.

Robbie, however, was not outside the cabin and Jamie looked up the hill with dread building in his heart as he thought of the huge, cracked stone at the centre of the circle, not thirty feet away. Brianna might ken it for what it was but Robbie would run blindly toward the thing …

His anger redirected as he cursed himself for taking his eyes off the boy and Jamie took off at a run. Without the lightning he could barely see three feet ahead of him and twice he tripped over protruding rocks, jutting up out of the grass, hidden in darkness. The rain lashed his face, driven hard by the wind but he ignored it and kept his eyes stubbornly open, glancing left and right, looking for a tell-tale streak of white shirt or flying red hair.

As he crested the hill a brilliant flame shot out of the centre of the stone and the storm stopped just as suddenly as it had begun. Jamie stumbled and nearly fell, the sudden calm throwing him off balance. His children were nowhere to be seen and ice cold terror slid down Jamie’s back. Had they been in that flame? He froze to the spot, staring at the stone, their names clogging his throat, making it difficult to breath. Smoke drifted up from the other side of the jagged old rock and Jamie forced himself to move towards it, his legs trembling from the effort of his sprint and the grief which was already chilling his blood. But if they were gone he would need to tell Claire and he would not let her be the one to face whatever lay on the other side of the stone circle.

A man who could not have been there moments before, was sprawled on the grass, his jacket and breeks smoking and beside him both Brianna and Robbie were kneeling on the ground, frantically batting at the last of the flames.

Jamie made a strangled noise at the back of his throat and lunged forward seizing each of his bairns and dragging them bodily backwards, away from the cursed rock and the smoking body. All thoughts of letting Brianna go had evaporated from his mind and he all but crushed both of them to him in his desperate relief that they were still there to hold. As soon as they were a small distance away Jamie allowed his legs to buckle and sank to the ground, trembling from head to foot. He ran his hands over each of their face in turn and finding them unharmed, allowed his head to hang for a moment, fighting back the tears which threatened to overwhelm him.

“Da! The man …”

“I dinna care!”

Jamie snapped, looking up fiercely. Each of his nerves felt scraped raw, the fury that came with being utterly helpless slowly being replaced with a bone deep joy that his family was still whole and mercifully unharmed. Had it been the Lord himself in a smoking heap at his feet, Jamie could not have said he would have acted differently.

The heap of charred clothing groaned and Jamie jerked reflexively backward, pulling Bree and Robbie with him.

“We have to help him Da, he’s for Bree.”

“He’s …?”

Brianna looked at her little brother in confusion but Robbie was too busy trying to squirm out of his father’s grip to notice

“Seas!”

Jamie’s voice was hoarse from shouting and he shook the lad lightly, fixing him with a gimlet eye

“Ye go near those damn rocks again and I’ll no be held responsible for my actions, ye hear?”

Robbie nodded and suffered the bruising kiss his father pressed to his temple, but still looked plaintively at the man on the ground. Jamie stood shakily and cautiously made his way forward, glancing at his children every now and then to make sure that they had not moved from the spot where he left them.

The stranger made another noise and Jamie flicked his eyes downwards, there was something familiar about his face but his clothes were like none that Jamie had seen before. A shiver ran down his spine and he crossed himself hurriedly before rolling the man to and fro, the wet grass finishing the job Robbie and Bree had begun.

The man opened his eyes blearily and Jamie was startled to see that they were a remarkable shade of green.

“Am I dead?”

“Not unless I’m St. Peter.”

Jamie said dryly and helped the lad, for Jamie saw now he was a lad, sit up.

“What happened?”

“Damned if I ken. But I believe ye may ha’ come through the stones o’ Craigh Na Dun.”

The young man looked around him, taking in the huge hand on his arm and the equally huge man it belonged to as well as the two other people a little way back from them.

“Who are ye?”

“Huh?”

He looked up into the slanted blue eyes and blinked.

“I asked who ye are. What’s your name?”

“Oh … Ah … Roger. Roger Mackenzie Wakefield.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has taken the time to comment on this fic. I have been really terrible with replying, mostly because I was really worried about giving away what I knew would happen in this chapter.   
> I want to thank you all so, so much for keeping me going and to let you know how much I appreciate you.
> 
> It's 11pm now and I must go to bed but I will be replying to as many comments in my inbox as I can tomorrow and hoping to catch up with you all. 
> 
> Once again and as always, you guys ROCK!!! xxx


	11. Easy As That.

The next hour passed in a blur for Roger. He stumbled down the hill toward the cabin at Jamie’s urging and was examined by a woman he half remembered as if from a long ago dream. She filled him in on where he was and in other circumstances Roger would have laughed at her or offered some small resistance to the idea of time travel through mythical stones but the truth was, in his weakened state, with the noise and bustle of the twentieth century suddenly silenced, it made a curious sort of sense to him.  
“You may still be a little drunk.”  
Claire, that was her name, smiled at him and Roger nodded numbly. He most likely was a little drunk, perhaps more than a little. Claire assured him he had only the most minor of burns and offered him a cup of hot, strong tea.  
“Brianna, my daughter, will sit with you. My husband is eager to leave this place and I can’t say I blame him much.”  
Roger nodded again and cleared his throat  
“Should I try and go back?”  
He had no idea why he was asking her for advice but something in the depths of her eyes, a most peculiar shade of honeyed gold, made him sure that if there was an answer to his predicament, Claire would have it.  
“Not yet I don’t think. You are welcome to travel with us. We will only get as far as the nearest inn today I think, everyone needs to sleep and recuperate and tomorrow we can discuss what to do next.”  
“Thank you.”  
Roger’s voice was hoarse, even to his own ears and he sighed heavily. A sudden thought struck him and as Claire stood to leave he reached out and clasped her hand tightly.  
“You travelled here too, didn’t ye? From the … from my place.”  
Claire glanced at the doorway and back to Roger as if making up her mind about something.  
“I did. My daughter was intending to go back at the same time as you came through.”  
Roger’s grip loosened and the panic that had been building in his chest at the anticipation of her answer began to soothe away.  
“I’m sorry I stopped her.”  
He mumbled and Claire gave his hand a final squeeze.  
“I’m not.”  
With that she stood up and moved quietly to the door, calling out to the girl named Brianna.  
Roger had not really paid attention to her before, Jamie was a rather imposing presence and Roger found his eyes fixed on him like a mouse entranced by a snake.  
Now however his attention was fully on the next of his new acquaintances and when she stepped into the small room, it was like a thunderbolt shot through Roger’s heart. She was the most beautiful woman Roger had ever seen, tall and graceful with a stubborn chin and slanted blue eyes and her hair … God! Her hair was the colour of sands in Kaihalulu Bay, a Hawaiian beach Roger had seen pictures of and been determined to visit. He now thought that if he could just touch Brianna’s hair once, he would never need to visit that beach and could die quite happily without it.  
*  
“Ye left Brianna alone wi’ that man?”  
Jamie asked as Claire ran a hand lightly down his back. He was trying to secure their sodden packs back onto the horses but the rope had become inflexible and logged with water and it was doing nothing to improve his mood.  
“I did, but he’s harmless Jamie.”  
“Mmmpphhmm. It’s not proper Claire. If he is a suitor for her…”  
Claire’s laugh cut him off and Jamie’s shoulders tensed.  
“They’ve only just met! The poor man has just had the shock of his life and I hardly think anything will be on his mind at the moment beyond his situation.”  
Jamie managed to secure the knot he had been working on and tugged it sharply into place, making Aoileann snort and stamp beside him. He apologised softly in Gaelic and stroked the side of her neck before turning to face his wife.  
“It doesna matter that he’s hurt, confused and maybe a wee bit scared with it. I remember feelin’ similar when I first met ye Sassenach and it didna stop my thoughts on the matter.”  
“Were they ‘My shoulder hurts! Why is this mad woman shouting at me?’?”  
Claire’s smile widened and Jamie allowed his own lip to quirk upwards.  
“No they were not. And I doubt he is thinkin’ o’ his back right now.”  
He said dryly as Claire cocked her head to the side and her smile blossomed into a grin.  
“I thought I had seen you in all guises, James Fraser, but overly protective father of his daughter’s virtue is a new one.”  
Jamie raised one ruddy eyebrow back at her  
“If ye think so then ye havena been paying proper attention Sassenach.”  
“Oh? You’ve seen off other suitors have you?”  
“No,”  
Jamie said, jerking his chin toward the cabin  
“because most young men at Lallybroch ha’ the sense no to be getting ideas about Himself’s daughter.”  
“Ah.”  
Claire nodded as if this was perfectly reasonable and laid her head on Jamie’s shoulder, smoothing the drying fabric of his shirt and allowing the edge of her thumb to stroke the sensitive curve of his ear. Jamie reached up and caught her hand, drawing her into his embrace and lightly resting his chin on her head.  
“Do ye think … I mean … ah … Ye came through the stones for me, not that ye kent it at first and I didna either but…”  
Jamie took a deep breath and pressed his lips together.  
“I dinna mean to sound like a vain fool, but I have often thought that you and I are meant to be together and that is why ye came through the stones the first time – to be mine.”  
Claire nodded, it sounded like something out of one of the tawdry romance novels she had read during quiet moments at the hospital but she also thought Jamie could be quite right, which meant there was a chance it had happened before for others and could happen again.  
Claire watched her daughter leave the cabin in search of more tea, find it and hurry back inside, and smiled to herself. She had known those small smiles and backward glances herself as a girl but had never seen them on Brianna. She wondered if perhaps she should be feeling protective or scandalised in some way but Claire only felt a sense of quiet happiness for the two of them.  
Love did not have to be hard won, tumultuous or fraught with pain and angst. It could still blossom and burst into life based on nothing more than a chance meeting between two souls. She and Jamie had been through so much … awfulness! So much pain and heartbreak and violence! She wanted something different for Brianna and with Roger perhaps that was possible.  
“Perhaps Roger is here for Bree?”  
She offered  
“Aye. It’s perhaps a daft notion but something Robert said on the hill…”  
Jamie trailed off and glanced down at the boy, curled up by the fire in a blanket, dark curls just about visible over the top, his chest rising and falling in slumber.  
“He told me that the man was for Bree. I dinna ken what sort of fool I have become to take stock in the speculations of an eight year old child but I think when it comes to the strange our son might have your canny gift.”  
Claire picked up on the slightly accusatory tone of Jamie’s voice and gave his arm a squeeze.  
“I think he might. Bree can travel but Robbie…he seems to be a special.”  
“Mmmphhm.”  
Jamie lowered his brows  
“Aye and that worries me, Sassenach. He is special and he is beginning to realise it too. He needs to learn caution and obedience for the world doesna look kindly on those who lack it.”  
Claire stiffened a little and looked up at her husband  
“He has caution and obedience!”  
“He disobeyed me here Claire, we nearly lost him because of it.”  
“It was the stones, Jamie! He couldn’t help it.”  
“Aye, he could. I intend to see to the matter as soon as we are away from this place.”  
Jamie’s tone brooked no argument, his jaw set in a stubborn line that Claire had half a mind to point out was the exact source of their children’s own stubborn streaks but refrained.  
“I can talk to him, explain that …”  
“Claire.”  
Jamie stepped back and moved his hands to rest lightly on her shoulders  
“Some things are between a father and his son. I said that I will see to the matter and I would ask that ye let me.”  
Claire pulled her damp shawl a little tighter around herself and nodded sharply, once. Jamie had been hesitant with Brianna, more inclined to follow Claire’s lead out of respect for the years that he had not been present but with Robbie, Jamie had been there since the day he was born. He had woken in the night with him as a baby, helped potty train him, practiced those exciting yet terrifying first steps and done all the other small and large milestones that accompanied being a parent. Claire had no right nor need to step between them and form a bridge of understanding, they had built their own already.  
“We need to get moving.”  
Claire said finally and tiptoed to kiss his lips.  
“Shall I ride with Robbie …”  
“No, You ride wi’ Brianna. I’ll take Robert and … Roger, can ride alongside.”  
“I told him we would reach an inn and rest for today and tonight.”  
“Aye, I canna say I am in a fit state to ride far today. My breeks are soaked and chafing my legs raw. I want a dry bed and I dinna care wear it is.”  
Jamie agreed stretching his arms above his head.  
“We can set off for Lallybroch at first light tomorrow. He looks a wee bit odd dressed as he is but he’s a big lad, I dinna mind lending him some of my clothes if they’ll fit.”  
“You’re happy to take Roger to Lallybroch with us?”  
Claire raised her eyebrows in surprise and Jamie shrugged  
“If he wishes to come. The Fae gave me the greatest gift I have ever had. If they have seen fit to bestow another to my daughter, I would not disrespect their generosity.”  
“So he’s a gift now?”  
Claire laughed as Jamie looked down his nose at her   
“I havena decided yet.”  
*  
Brianna smoothed her skirts down as Roger pushed a hand through his hair, suddenly shy. The story of how he came to be at Craigh Na Dun was hardly dashing, a party on the fairy hill with some local lads, a beer too many and leaning against a rock to take a piss. If she was completely honest it made her feel slightly silly for all of her preparations to travel when someone could just do it whilst peeing! But there was something refreshingly honest about him. He spoke to her as if she were an equal, not the daughter of a laird, or a little lady to be treated softly and certainly not with wary caution for her height and her mannerisms.  
He spoke the way she always hoped a man would speak to her, the way her father spoke to her mother, with friendliness and a willingness to listen as well as talk.  
“Are you going to go back?”  
“Aye but … your mother mentioned that I might stay with you for a little while. I know its … I know it’s cowardly of me but I would just as soon not do that again right away.”  
Brianna nodded and her heart leapt at the thought of having more time with him.  
“You’re taking this whole thing WAY too well.”  
She smiled and he grinned back at her bashfully  
“I guess I am. It sort of doesn’t feel real but …”  
He had been about to say that she felt VERY real to him but realised just in time how ridiculous that sounded  
“I guess I don’t have anyone special back there to miss me or to miss so being here for a while … it would be … fine. Here with you and your family. Plus I’m a historian and this … this is history!”  
“It’s my home.”  
Bree said softly and Roger bit his lip  
“Of course, I didn’t mean any disrespect.”  
“I didn’t think you did, but if you look at this place from the outside then you will miss the things that are so wonderful about it.”  
Roger grinned at her  
“Will you be my guide then? Keep me from making an arse of myself.”  
“I will, but only in exchange for you preparing me for the twentieth century. I remember quite a bit but I’m sure a lot has changed since 1957!”  
Brianna laughed and without thinking took his hand and squeezed it within her own palm. What passed between them was something that neither would ever be able to fully articulate. Not to each other and not to their children when they would ask when Mam and Da knew they were in love but deep within each of their hearts, they would know with a certainty that the first touch was all it took and that falling in love could truly be as easy as that.  
*


	12. Fate Has Her Way.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, so this was originally going to be the last chapter of this fic but, as large fics tend to do, this one has taken on a life of it’s own and will likely reach around chapter 15/16.  
> This particular instalment incorporates a couple of really fantastic prompts I have had lately, most notably one from the wonderful @aruza83 about Jamie experiencing firsts with Robbie, pleasant/unpleasant but all part of the rich tapestry of family life with the Fraser’s.  
> This is a particularly long chapter and I would like to say thank you in advance to those of you who read it and take the time to read it, like it or comment on it. This has been a tough week for the Fandom but we are still here and we are still awesome! Yay us!! <3 xxx

Roger rode up alongside Claire and Brianna and for a while the three of them chatted back and forth but as the conversation went on, Claire withdrew more and more until she was just listening to them. They spoke lightly but Claire could feel the air rippling around them, it seemed to crackle with new love, like autumn leaves under booted feet, a crisp feeling of change about to happen.  
“I’ve studied the … ah … this period with some of the best scholars, they would never believe me if told them about this. Well, one of them might have but he passed away a year ago and I dinna ken that may Oxford historians place much weight on tales of standing stones!”  
Roger’s tone was joking but Claire felt Brianna jolt slightly beside her.  
“You had a professor who believed in the power of the stones?”  
“Weel, I couldna say he believed exactly but he studied the folklore of them and wouldna shut a theory down if it was presented to him. He was a family friend and he and my father had worked together for years…”  
Claire found Brianna’s hand and held it tightly, her own chest was tightening, making it hard to breathe and she knew that her daughter must be feeling the same. Roger however seemed to be completely oblivious to this and switched the conversation easily to talking about other bits of folklore that had caught his interest.  
“Kelpie tales were always a favourite of mine, ken? When I was a bairn …”  
Brianna reached out and caught his sleeve and what Roger saw in her face made his smile falter.  
“Bria…”  
“What was his name?”  
“Who?”  
“The professor who believed in the standing stones, the one who died?”  
Bree’s eyes were focussed on his own with a startling intensity and Roger noticed that within the deep blue iris’ there was a ring of pure gold, an island surrounded by sea, upon which he now realised, his soul was marooned and would never manage to leave.  
“His name was Randall. Professor Frank Randall.”  
“Daddy.”  
Bree’s lips formed the word and ushered it into the world with a soft breath that curled in front of her face on the cold Scottish air before disappearing forever.  
“I’m sorry?”  
Roger covered the long fingers still clutching his sleeve with his own hand, surprised to feel her skin burning beneath his hand despite the chill.  
“He was … I … how…”  
“Roger,”  
Claire spoke up and Roger tore his gaze from the younger Fraser woman with great difficulty.  
“Frank was my first husband, I would be grateful if you would give us both the details of his passing but would ask both of you to please wait until we reach the inn. This is a conversation which requires whisky.”  
“I …”  
Roger looked between them both and bit his lip lightly unsure of how to proceed. After a moment though, Brianna nodded and retrieved her hand from his, swiping it impatiently beneath her eyes and nodded  
“Mama’s right.”  
“OK, Sure. When we get to the inn I’ll fill you in as best I can.”  
Roger made his voice stronger and more assured than he felt and noticed Claire give him an appraising look which seemed to contain a genuine deal of respect and sat up a little straighter in his saddle.  
*  
Jamie had intended to have it out with Robert the minute they were alone. The anger which had dissipated in the wake of finding both his children safe and whole at the stones had returned as his panic subsided. He knew that Robbie sensed his mood because the lad was quiet for once, a small blessing as Jamie was in no mood for chatter.  
He needed to think about Brianna and her predicament regarding the stones and he needed to confront the fact that there was a young man, sent from the fae, in his charge now as well but those were things that Jamie did not feel equal to confronting whilst exhausted, hungry and at odds with himself.  
Jamie had cleared his throat twice on the ride toward the inn, preparing to lecture or scold but each time he opened his mouth he found himself at a loss for words. How could he explain to an eight year old boy why he was so furious? The disobedience was one thing. Robert had broken his promise to stay close and ignored a direct order from him and Jamie hoped that he had instilled enough discipline in the boy that he would ken well enough that such things would not go unanswered for.  
He thought of his own father and scowled. Jamie was softer than Brian, by choice as well as by nature and for the most part he was glad of it.  
He did not raise his hand to Claire and very rarely had done to his children either, despite Ian teasing him about his leniency with them. What Jamie sometimes longed to say to Ian was that he had spent his entire adult life in the turmoil of violence; he had fought in battles, fought in duels and been chained and flogged like a pitiful beast. He would just as soon live the rest of his days without receiving or doing violence to another human, especially his beloved children, so aye, he was soft but he did his duty as a father when he needed to all the same. However he could not say that to Ian because to do so would imply that Jamie considered himself to have lived a harder life than his friend and perhaps insult his own way of being with his children, so Jamie kept his counsel.  
He was not so naïve that he thought he could actually live out his days as such but it was a pleasant thought and if he was honest with himself, part of the reason he was still so furious with Robert was that he had pushed Jamie toward a course of action he hated to take with his bairns.  
“Da?”  
Robbie’s voice cut through Jamie’s thoughts and he blinked before looking down his nose at the small upturned face  
“Yes?”  
“Are ye ever goin’ to speak to me again?”  
Robbie scooched forward in the saddle as his father’s chest expanded behind him, swelling with a considerably deeper breath than usual.  
“Aye. Ye may no’ like what I have to say verra much but I’ll speak to ye.”  
“Oh.”  
Robbie bit his lip and tried to crane around his Da’s frame to see if perhaps his Mam was nearby. He didn’t often hide behind her skirts, but occasionally having an ally in his mother was enough to persuade his father that stolen cakes or muddy boot prints were not worth a scolding.  
“Do ye think Bree likes Roger?”  
“She’s only ken him a couple of hours.”  
“That’s how long it took for Mam to ken she liked you.”  
Robbie shrugged and Jamie snorted despite himself.  
“It took your mother a fair while longer than a couple of hours to decide that she liked me.”  
“Mam told me that she knew she liked ye when ye wrapped ye plaid around her on the horse to Leoch. She said as that she was frightened of ye but ye seemed kind enough.”  
“Really? She never told me that.”  
Jamie wondered whether his son might have inherited his great-grandfather’s gift for smoothing his way out of trouble – a certain slyness passed down from the Old Fox which Jamie knew he himself certainly possessed and had seen drabbles of in Brianna too.  
“Oh. Well it took her a longer time to love ye. A lot longer!”  
Robbie added, dragging out the penultimate word to convey the sheer expanse of time it took and Jamie revised his suspicions about Robbie’s penchant for cunning.  
“Da?”  
“Mmmm?”  
“Would ye mind tellin’ me off now? I dinna like waiting and it’s makin’ me feel sick.”  
The word ‘Good’ sprang to Jamie’s lips but he pressed it back and grunted instead.  
“When we get to the inn, aye?”  
“Aye Da.”  
A little while later they rounded a corner, the path opened up to a small hamlet with smoke rising in lazy wisps from the chimneys.  
*  
Jamie and Robbie arrived first and Jamie took three rooms, one for him and Claire, one for Bree and Robbie and one for Roger. He had let Robbie wander over to the stables. The lad was fidgety after a long ride and not enough sleep and Jamie didn’t begrudge him wanting a few minutes away, Jamie himself would have rather liked a bit of solitude but as the lad disappeared from view, Claire and Brianna rode in with Roger beside them. Jamie could tell that something was wrong immediately, Brianna’s mouth was set in a grim line and Claire looked utterly exhausted. He made a low, dangerous sound at the back of his throat and began to stride forward, his blood already heating and eyes fixed on Roger.  
“Jamie.”  
Claire read his intentions and called his attention to her, shaking her head softly. He continued toward them but allowed his gaze to rest with Claire.  
“What’s happened?”  
“Later.”  
Claire murmured, allowing Jamie to help her from the saddle, his hands strong and blissfully solid on her body and for a moment she wanted to cling to him and bury her face in his neck, inhaling his scent the blessed real-ness of him.  
“Bree? Are ye well?”  
“Yes Da.”  
Bree said flatly and Jamie stepped toward her instinctively wanting to hold her through whatever hurt she was feeling, just as he had when she was a wee lassie.  
“Jamie.”  
Claire shook her head and gently held him back. Brianna had swung out of the saddle on her own and turned away from her parents, busying herself with the saddle bags before giving up on them and guiding Aoileann to the stables, Roger and his mount following in her wake. Jamie watched them go before turning to Claire, his eyes already narrowing.  
“Sassenach, my patience is no’ at its highest today if …”  
“Roger knew Frank.”  
Claire hissed urgently, cutting off her husband’s tirade. Jamie shut his mouth abruptly and blinked rapidly twice.  
“I … Is the lass alright?”  
“She will be. We’re going to get a couple of drams and Roger will fill us in on what he knows. Do you want to be there?”  
“I need to see to Robert, it wouldna be fair to make him wait longer, and I doubt he shall be in any mood to socialise afterwards … Do ye want me there, Sassenach? I will be with ye both should ye wish it.”  
Claire shook her head and gave his arm a grateful squeeze.  
“We’ll be fine, it might go better without you there.”  
She looked toward the stable where Robbie was tiptoeing to stroke a grey horse’s nose  
“Jamie, don’t be … I mean … he’s only eight…”  
Jamie smiled and placed a kiss on Claire’s forehead.  
“Dinna fash, mother hen.”  
*  
Robbie sat down on the bed nearest the window and kicked off his boots and yanked off his socks, stretching out his toes. Frog feet, his Mam called them, just like his Da and sister. Da was fair fashed with him and he knew it but in the entirety of his young life he had never actually been afraid of his father and he was not afraid now. The door creaked open and Jamie stepped into the room, ducking slightly under the shallow doorframe.  
“Halo Da.”  
“Halo Raibeart.”  
Jamie smiled and crossed the small room, taking a seat on the bed beside his son.  
“I’m sorry Da, for disobeying ye and such.”  
Robbie offered, he had been waiting for this for hours and now that his Da was here he just wanted it over and done with between them.  
“Are ye then?”  
“Aye, I didna mean to and I didna mean to break a promise either. But I ken that I did it all the same and that ye mean to punish me.”  
Jamie looked down at his hands folded into his lap and smiled. He admired the courage it took to try and push the process along the way Robbie was and he respected it to, but the issue he saw went deeper than a clout owed to an erring lad, that once received, would see the matter closed.  
“Aye, I do and I ken ye have had to wait and I appreciate that it is no’ a pleasant feeling, so I apologise to ye for it laddie but I have some things to say to ye afore we get down to it.”  
Jamie clasped his hands and ducked his head as if deep in thought before sitting up and turning to face his son.  
“Ye have a … talent of sorts for the unfamiliar. Ye can see auras and ye seem to have a touch of the sight about ye. Your mother is the same and I want ye to ken that whilst it might be unusual, it didna change the way I love her and it willna change the way I love you, so ye need not hide it from me.”  
Robbie had hung his head as Jamie started talking but now he looked up and what Jamie saw in his eyes made his heart ache. It was the same doubtful hope that Claire had looked at him with after the witch trials when she had finally, desperately told him where she was from.  
“Ye dinna mind?”  
“No, I dinna mind. But … it does mean ye must learn caution for there are those who would no’ look kindly on ye should they ken about it. People can be small minded and fearful of what they dinna understand.”  
Jamie smiled slightly and gave Robbie’s leg a reassuring squeeze  
“Also ye must ken ye limitations – just because ye can see a red light around me that I canna see doesna mean ye ken better than me in any other matter.”  
Robbie frowned  
“I dinna think I do, Da!”  
“No? So when I told ye to stay close ye didna think ye knew better? Or when I told ye to get back to the cabin?”  
Robbie blushed slightly and looked down at his feet, kicking them back and forth absentmindedly  
“I had to get Bree.”  
He mumbled and Jamie gently put a finger under his chin, lifting the boy’s gaze to make eye-contact with him  
“No ye did not. Ye needed to follow my order.”  
“But …”  
“There is no space for ‘but’ here Raibeart. Ye must learn to heed my word. What if you had fallen through the stone? I could not have gone after ye. You would have been lost to me.”  
Jamie’s voice had risen and he made an effort to lower it again.  
“I didna think of that Da.”  
Robbie murmured and Jamie nodded in understanding. He remembered how such admissions wounded young pride from his own childhood.  
“Because ye are a bairn and ye canna be expected to think of all things; that is my job as your father, to teach ye and keep ye safe.”  
Jamie resisted the urge to put an arm around the lad’s shoulders and draw him close. There would be time for that later.  
“Your choices disappointed me and ye may have had good intent, but I expect ye to listen to me and to honour ye word when you give it, aye?”  
Robbie nodded glumly, he felt thoroughly chastened and more than a little foolish. Jamie knew his message had sunk in and steeled himself for what both of them knew must follow and with resignation, stood up and unbuckled his belt.  
“Ye ken that ye have done wrong and ye are old enough to be held accountable. Lay on your front, laddie.”  
Robbie’s eyes widened but he did as he was told, without whining or fussing and Jamie noted, not for the first time, that the lad looked most like Claire when he was trying to be brave. He had never strapped Robbie before, he’d chastened him with the palm of his hand but never his belt and as he stood holding the leather, Jamie saw so many other firsts flash through his mind in the blink of an eye.  
How he had sat with Robbie through the night when he was cutting his first teeth and held him under the armpits as he attempted his first steps. He remembered the huge grin the laddie had given him the first time he tasted honey and the equally huge grin when he managed to piss in a pot, having hurried to get there in time. Jamie could still remember the first grazed knee and the first tentative try at writing his name. This was probably the least pleasant first Jamie had experienced with his son and Jamie handled it as swiftly as he could.  
He had intended to do as his father had done that first time when Jamie was the same age: give Robert ten strokes and leave the room whilst the boy composed himself, but Jamie re-buckled the old leather about his hips after six and gently gathered his son to him, holding him and telling him things in a mixture of Latin and French that Robbie would not understand for Jamie did not want the boy thinking him daft and sentimental.  
“I would prefer if I didna have to do that too often, ken?”  
Jamie murmured into the soft brown curls, which bobbed beneath his nose as Robbie nodded in agreement.  
“I wasna keen on it either.”  
Robbie mumbled and Jamie let out a startled laugh despite himself.  
“Would you like me to fetch ye some lunch?”  
Robbie nodded again and sniffed wetly, wiping his nose on his handkerchief and Jamie’s shoulders relaxed. He would not say he felt guilty exactly, but he’d certainly gotten no pleasure from the encounter and was oddly relieved that Robbie wanted to eat.  
*  
The inn was eerily quiet, empty save for the three of them and a tabby cat which had curled up by the embers of the fire. Brianna rolled the glass between her hands and listened as Roger described her Daddy’s work and his life and finally his death. A car crash on a stormy night the year before last. She expected to cry and had braced herself against it but found that she was numb to the tears that threatened to overwhelm her back on the road.  
It was her mother who asked the relevant questions of Roger and thanked him for his answers. Bree just sat and rolled the glass back and forth, occasionally raising it to her lips.  
Half-way through Roger’s explanation of Frank’s career there had been a very upset howl from the rooms upstairs that she recognised as Robbie and she had tightened her grip on the glass at the same moment as Claire half-leapt up from her chair. She watched her mother briefly battle with the urge to run upstairs and rescue her youngest before forcing herself to sit down and resume her conversation with Roger.  
Brianna licked her lip and swallowed. She had not really thought about what his actions the night before would cost her brother and although he had acted completely of his own accord, the fact remained that if Bree had not insisted on travelling back, Robbie would not have been at the stones and would not be being spanked for his role in the events which unfolded from it.  
She had put them all through so much and Frank had been dead all along.  
The minutes ticked by and her father appeared down the stairs, looking tired and drawn but his very presence seemed to give the room more light and warmth. He looked over at her and the love in his gaze thawed the ice that had been encasing her heart since Roger began his story. Bree stood and crossed the distance between them, placing her glass on a table top with a thump, her eyes never leaving his.  
“Daddy … Frank … He’s dead.”  
She did not remember her father picking her up but she realised a little while later that they were sat on the bottom stair and her father was holding her on his lap, rocking her gently and murmuring soft Gaelic words of comfort above her head. Mama was sat beside them, her beautiful hands holding Bree’s lightly, her thumbs caressing the skin of her knuckles in a gentle rhythm.  
They stayed like that a few seconds longer and then Bree sat up  
“I’m so sorry Mama, Da … for all of this. I feel so awful … to have put you through this and be too late anyway …”  
“You have nothing to be sorry for a leannan.”  
Jamie’s voice was low and gentle and Bree thought she might cry again but forced it back.  
“Where’s Roger?”  
“He took himself upstairs to his bed.”  
Claire answered  
“Robbie?”  
“He’s upstairs, I took him up something to eat.”  
“Is he alright? He got a pretty rough deal out of this.”  
“He’ll be fine. The deal he got was one of his own making Brianna, it wasna your fault.”  
Jamie said firmly.  
“I don’t know what to do Da.”  
Jamie shrugged one shoulder  
“We go home and think about it there.”  
“What about Roger?”  
“If he wishes to come with us, and if it would please ye, then he comes to.”  
Jamie sounded more nonchalant than he felt and Claire placed a knowing hand on him, rubbing the back of his neck lightly.  
“I would like him to come, if you both really don’t mind.”  
“I dinna mind.”  
“Neither do I.”  
Claire smiled.  
“But for now, I think we need to sleep.”  
Bree and Jamie both gave identical jaw cracking yawns at the mention of sleep and laughed.  
“I don’t know if I’ll wake up this side of Christmas.”  
Bree joked as Jamie helped her up, kissing her cheek.  
“Wake me before you start saddling up though? I’ll help.”  
“Thank ye lass, sleep well.”  
Jamie lifted Bree’s discarded whisky glass as she hugged Claire goodnight and made her way up stairs, and drained it. Claire’s arms circled his torso and he sighed contentedly.  
“Rough week?”  
Jamie snorted  
“That’ll be an understatement Sassenach. Christ! I dinna ken whether I’m comin’ or goin’.”  
“You’re coming. With me, to bed.”  
“To bed or to sleep?”  
Jamie mumbled, nuzzling into the hollow of her neck  
“To sleep, most definitely.”  
Claire chuckled and felt him nod against her  
“Thank God. I think if I tried anything else, ye’d be a widow before I finished my first stroke.”  
“At least I would know you died happy.”  
The deep rumble of his laugh reverberated through her and she swayed lightly with him in the dim candle-light. Her husband, her heart and her home through good and bad for the last twenty odd years, pressed warm against her side as they made their way to their bed.  
*


	13. Swinging and Swaying.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The travellers arrive home to Lallybroch and feelings begin to appear. Thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to write to me or leave kudos on my work. You guys are amazing and wonderful and I really appreciate you sticking with this AU.  
> Han xxx

Two days later they arrived at Lallybroch, the men on foot leading the horses and the women riding behind. Robbie had run off ahead and from the sound of dogs barking, Jamie knew that he was already in the court yard, or more likely the kitchen being spoilt by his aunty. As they rounded the final corner Roger stared up at the huge house in utter wonder.

“I ken this place but I’ve not seen it like this!”

“Ye ken Lallybroch?”

Jamie raised his eyebrows and Roger nodded, still staring at the building

“Aye, but it’s so grand! I only ever saw it as a dilapidated old wreck of a place and …”

Realisation dawned on Roger a split second after he began to speak and he clamped his mouth shut.

“I’m sorry I …”

The look on Jamie’s face stilled his tongue and brought a flush to his cheek and Roger wished that the ground would swallow him whole, rather than have to endure another second of that unfathomable blue stare.

“It’s a fine house.”

He mumbled contritely

“Aye it is.”

Jamie said flatly and strode past, heading toward the stables. Roger hesitated a moment before following allowing a fair gap between them.

*

The general hubbub of their arrival gave Roger and Jamie a fair break from each other which both men were grateful for. The two days on the road had changed their relationship from wary strangers with mutual respect to a rather one-sided student/mentor role that neither of them seemed to relish.

The explanation that Roger was one of Claire’s people had been accepted with ease and Roger was more than slightly surprised at the amount of hospitality he was offered and gratefully accepted the hot tea and hearty lunch that was put in front of him before being whisked off upstairs to a guest bedroom and presented with a small pile of clothes.

“These should fit ye fine, ye are nearly the same height as my brother, if not quite sae broad.”

Jenny turned from the wardrobe and dropped a small pile of clothes in front of Roger on the bed and cocked her head to the side looking up at him.

“So I understand as ye are like my good-sister?”

“I .. ah … aye. Well … we are from the same place of sorts. I’m Scottish though.”

Roger didn’t know what made him add that but he got the impression that currying favour with Jenny Murray might go some way toward helping him navigate her brother.

“Wakefield is no’ the most traditional of Scottish names.”

Jenny arched one fine black eyebrow and Roger grinned sheepishly

“Wakefield was the name of my adopted father. My actual father’s name was Mackenzie.”

Jenny’s face lit up with a smile that would charm the birds from the trees

“Mackenzie! Och! Our mother was a Mackenzie!”

“Aye, Jamie said.”

“Weel that changes things a wee bit. I didna ken that ye are linked wi’ our kin too.”

She crossed to the wardrobe and brought out three more shirts of markedly better quality and took away the original offerings.

“Thank ye.”

Roger smiled and Jenny gave his arm a light squeeze.

“Get yeself changed out of whatever this odd garb is that ye have on and let me know if ye need anything else.”

*

“Jamie …?”

Claire had been sat on the bed listening to her husband mutter darkly to himself as he paced their bedroom floor for the last fifteen minutes and the last five minutes had been entirely in Gaelic so she had not even really been able to follow it.

“What?”

He snapped and then stopped and ran a hand through his hair guiltily.

“I’m sorry Sorcha. I dinna mean to be short wi’ ye.”

“Would you like to tell me exactly what has riled you so?”

“It’s him!”

Jamie cried, pointing an accusatory finger at the door as if the offending male would suddenly appear.

“Which ‘him’?”

Claire asked patiently and Jamie huffed, throwing himself into the old armchair by the window

“Roger.”

He spoke the name with certain distaste and Claire folded her arms, fixing her husband with a gimlet stare.

“What exactly has Roger done to you?”

“He hasna done anything to me!”

Jamie said, clearly affronted at the thought that Roger might even be able to do something to him

“I doubt he could even if he wanted to. Ye ken he canna skin a rabbit properly? Robert had to show him how to do it!”

“Well things are …”

“Different where ye are from! Aye, ye’ve said.”

Claire pursed her lips, her patience thinning

“So what is the problem?”

“He canna take care o’ himself here! He isna useful or knowledgeable or resourceful. What kind of husband is he goin’ to make? Should it be Brianna goin’ out to hunt and mend fences and chop wood whilst he stirs the cooking pot and nurses the bairns?”

Jamie’s sat forward gripping his knees in frustration and Claire fought back her own irritation with some difficulty.

“They are not even officially courting …”

“They will though! If it wasna certain before all his talk of Randall it is now!”

“What are you talking about?” 

“Ye ken well what I mean Claire! He is her link to Frank and she will love him because of it. Damn it! Dinna pretend ye dinna ken it to be true!”

“Well so what if it is? Bree is perfectly capable of making her own choices and she is capable of hunting, mending fences and chopping wood too. She doesn’t need a man to do those things for her!”

Jamie stared at Claire open mouthed, a flush seeping up from his collar

“Ye would see our daughter shamed so?”

“Shamed?”

Claire cried, throwing up her hands in exasperation

“I chop wood Jamie and I can mend a damn sight more things than a fence and I can bloody well hunt too! Am I shamed?”

“No, being able to do these things is proper but HAVING to do them because your husband is too feeble or lazy … Claire, the man thinks of this place as a … a fools theatre. He is entertained by everything and understands nothing!”

Jamie thumped his hand on the arm of the chair and turned his face away, staring angrily out of the window. Claire bit her lip and tried to think of what to do for the best and which of Jamie’s obvious concerns to tackle first. After a minute she stood and crossed the room to him, sitting lightly on the arm of the chair and running the fingers of her right hand through his hair.

“He’s only been here three days. Bree is still getting to know him. It’s too early to worry about fences and cooking pots.”

Jamie didn’t say anything but Claire saw the fingers on his leg relax their grip a little and pressed on

“But I am sure he would appreciate you taking the time to show him a few things if you’d like?”

She pressed her thumb into the tense knots at the base of his skull and pressed a kiss to the thick red waves of his hair.

“As for Frank … I am sorry if it wounds you Jamie but I am glad Bree has someone who can tell her of his life. She was willing to do so much to learn about him … she deserves to know.”

Jamie made no remark about this and eventually Claire stood and moved to the door, ready to leave him to his thoughts.

“Will we ever be free of the Randall’s, Claire? Or must I share your heart and the heart of my daughter with them forever?”

Jamie turned his head to look at her, his jaw clenched and eyes raised up to her face, unreadable and almost black with the light behind him. Claire’s first urge was to run to him, fall on her knees and shake him until he understood that her heart belonged to him and him alone but she held firm, her hand on the doorknob and with a deep breath she pulled it open and stood to face him, framed within the ornate wood.

“If after all I have done for the sake of loving you and all our years together, you still think that you do not have my whole heart then you are a bloody idiot, James Fraser.”

And with that she stepped into the corridor and closed the door behind her. Claire hovered a moment, expecting to hear a fist driven through wood or a thrown glass shatter but there was only silence.

*

Brianna grinned at the sight of Roger crouching down to scratch Flo’s ears. The dog was in a state of utter bliss and Roger looked the happiest Bree had seen him since Robbie had shown him the proper was to skin a rabbit too.

He was wearing a good quality shirt, probably Da’s and thick breeks along with a pair of boots which had seen many, many better days but surprisingly looked rakish rather than slovenly on him. His hair was swept back and clearly wet and Bree wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers through the thick black mass of it.

“You’ve made a friend for life!”

She called and he turned his head to face her, smiling. Bree touched her bottom lip absentmindedly curious about what his might feel like against it. What would he taste of? The thought made her blush and she turned away, plucking at an imaginary thread on her dress.

“So has she! I havena ken a bonnier doggy in all my life, have I lass?”

He directly his words to Flo and Bree grinned. She had heard her father speak gently and reverently to horses but never had she heard a man at Lallybroch speak in such cute and funny way to a dog!

“The clothes fit you well. You look … great!”

Roger smiled self-consciously down at himself

“Your Aunty. She sorted me out. I dinna ken where she took my own clothes though.”

“Well the jacket was ruined anyway but she has probably burnt the rest too. They’re improper garments!”

Bree gently mocked her aunt’s accent.

“Ach! Weel I dinna mind too much. I’ve plenty of shirts back home.”

Roger waved it off and Bree cocked her head to the side, a habit inherited from her mother, surveying him.

“You don’t seem at all phased. I keep waiting for you to panic of go crazy but you just seem to be totally OK with all of this.”

“I came through once, there is no reason to think I canna make it back.”

“But you were on fire!”

Bree cried, laughing.

“Ah! Well that’s the beauty of Scotland, there is a ninety percent chance it will be raining when I go back through and the rain will put me out!”

“You’re impossible!”

Bree laughed and Roger stood up beside her.

“Maybe. Would ye mind showin’ me around?”

“Of course! What would you like to see?”

“Anything ye care to show me.”

Roger answered swiftly, lowering his head and looking up at Brianna with his best suave man-about-town expression. One ruddy eyebrow arched up in response.

“How long did it take you to come up with that line? I do hope it wasn’t long.”

Roger threw his head back and laughed, a delightful, full-bodied sound which brought a smile to Brianna’s face and made her heart soar all at once.

“About five minutes but dinna worry, I don’t have any others up my sleeve.”

Roger admitted, still grinning and Bree gestured to the tower.

“Fine, we’ll start over here.”

Roger looked up at the long, hard column of stone and for a second he wondered exactly how dry Brianna’s sense of humour might actually be but before he could summon an inoffensive way of asking, she strode past him, leading the way.

Roger stuffed his hands into his pockets and tried to keep his eyes on the swing of her hair rather than the sway of her hips.

Clearly following determined red-heads about was going to be a feature of his stay at Lallybroch.


	14. The Axe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Roger and Jamie clash.

Life at Lallybroch settled into a rhythm and within two weeks Roger was starting to feel like a member of the community, if not exactly a member of the family.

He was largely given simple tasks, ones that required physical strength but no great no-how and between them, Jamie and Ian had taken it upon themselves to try and teach him a few of the more complicated bits of running the estate.

Roger appreciated their help to a point but it was a blessed relief to be given the task that he could do alone for an hour or two. Roger braced his foot against the stump and drew the axe back over his head, he measured the distance with a squint eyed expression and brought the axe-head down with a crack. It lodged in the wood but didn’t split it.

“Shit.”

Roger pushed a hand through his hair and glaring at the log.

“Did ye check the grain?”

Roger squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and willed the owner of that particular voice to please, please go away.

“I did.”

He called back, a false cheeriness in his voice.

“Then ye misread it.”

Jamie stepped up to the stump and peered down at the axe embedded in the thick piece of pine.

“Ye’ve gone across the grain rather than along it.”

“I … meant to create a mark for splitting it into smaller pieces later.”

Roger knew that he sounded ridiculous but in that moment he just couldn’t face admitting to Jamie that there was another thing he could not do.

“Ah. And are the smaller pieces to form a peg-leg for when ye lose a foot, bracing it just so beneath a swinging blade?”

Roger felt heat creep into his face and gave the axe a violent wrench, trying to free it. The wood creaked but held firm, keeping the blade trapped.

“Let me do it.”

Jamie moved to take the handle from Roger but the younger man refused to relinquish the tool.

“I have it.”

The strain in Roger’s voice was measured but Jamie could see perspiration starting to form on his brow.

“Ye’ll break the head off it!”

“I can get a blade out o’ bit … of … wood!”

Roger grunted, turning so that his back was to Jamie and heaving until the muscles in his forearms quivered.

“Just gi’ it here…”

Jamie dodged around Roger and grabbed the handle. Green eyes met blue with a challenge that Jamie has not expected to find within their depths.

“Let go.”

“No. You let go!”

“It’s my axe!”

“Ian asked me to chop the wood and that is what I’m going to bloody do!”

“Ye’re goin’ to butcher every log and leave them useless!”

“They only have to burn, not … decorate … ye skirts….”

“They need to stack and create…a decent…long-burning…fire to…”

Jamie stopped speaking, grinding his teeth. Roger was slim but he had the strength of a younger man, ill-refined and coarse but vital all the same and Jamie felt a glimmer of concern that he might lose this wee contest.

Roger meanwhile had never expected to hold on as long as he had against the older man and his anger was cooling as his confidence grew. He would not best Fraser in an all out fight, he knew that from the way the man carried himself, but pound for pound perhaps there was not so much in it between them…

Jamie felt Roger’s grip loosen and pressed his momentary advantage, forcing the handle down and then yanking it up with a sudden and brutal force. A muscle in his back screamed and the fingers of his left hand tingled like fire but he felt the blade give and all at once it swung free, the blunt tip of the handle flying up and smashing into Roger’s face with a crack that made Jamie’s stomach flip.

“FUCK!”

Roger let go completely and his hands flew to his nose which was gushing blood. Jamie dropped the axe and pressed a hand to the small of his back which was already swelling, the skin beneath his shirt burning fiercely.

*

“What the bloody hell?”

Claire ran across the courtyard, scattering the hens who had been pecking at seeds. Jamie had one arm around Roger’s shoulders and was limping, his left leg scuffing behind him. Roger’s shirt front was covered in blood and most of his face was the colour of a ripening plum.

“What happened?”

Claire demanded as she reached them and her eyes darted over each looking for potentially life-threatening injury.

“Just a wee tussle, Sassenach. I’ve jarred my back.”

Jamie grimaced and Claire’s eyes flew wide.

“A wee …? Jamie! For God’s sake! Look at the state of you!”

She turned her gaze to Roger and her hand covered her mouth with a gasp

“What have you done to Roger?!”

“That was an accident.”

Jamie sounded indignant but also rather guilty and Roger gave a faint snort, causing fresh blood to trickle from his right nostril. Jamie glanced across at him, eyes narrowing to slits and Claire held up her hands.

“It doesn’t matter. Both of you go inside! Roger could you please help my husband to the surgery?”

*

Roger’s nose was not broken, but it was severely bruised and Claire sent him off with a compress and a fresh towel to mop his face before turning her attention to Jamie. He had been doing a sort of awkward lean against her bookshelf whilst she patched Roger up but the minute the door closed behind the younger man he gripped the edge of Claire’s examination table tightly and dragged himself flat onto his front with a low groan of agony.

“Oh Christ! Sassenach, if ye canna ease the pain, ye may need to shoot me.”

“Let me see.”

Claire edged up his shirt and laid her hand over the visible swelling just above the sweet curve where his arse began. It was at the very bottom of his scars and the skin was smooth and unblemished as goosebumps sprang up against her palm.

“I think it needs heat first, than cold.”

“Aye, aye that will be fine.”

Jamie murmured, eager for anything, hot, cold or other that might take away some of the pain. Claire made a hot compress of herbs and wrapped it in muslin cloth before placing it lightly over Jamie’s exposed skin. She started to tug his breeks down slightly to apply a second compress over the very base of his spine when she heard him chuckle

“If ye mean to skelp my arse for fightin’ wi’ the lad, ye may wish to wait a while, ken? I doubt I’d much feel it through the burnin’ in my back.”

“That’s a noble admission.”

Claire smiled dryly and pressed the second compress to his skin

“I wouldna wish ye to labour for nothing, Sassenach!”

Claire laughed despite herself and allowed her hand to settle on the warm, round swell of his buttocks, stroking lightly.

“What on earth did you fight about anyway?”

“Who’s turn it was to hold the axe.”

It was Jamie’s turn to smile dryly.

Claire dropped to a crouch beside the table, on eye-level with her husband and raised her eyebrows in silent question.

“He kissed Brianna.”

Jamie sighed finally, moving his arms to form a pillow for his head, turning to face Claire fully.

“I saw them walking the other evening and I could tell they had been speaking of Frank again, for the lass had that look about her and then just before they reached the gate, she tiptoed up and kissed his mouth.”

“So she kissed him then?”

Claire asked patiently and Jamie huffed.

“Aye, if ye like. But he pulled her close and didna seem too intent to get away so I dinna think we need to split hairs.”

“Alright.”

Claire smiled and ran her fingers from his jaw, up through the thick tresses of auburn and gold, and a little touch of aged silver visible now too, gently massaging the back of his neck.

“I ken that it would happen, they look well together and the lad has behaved well enough but …”

Jamie licked his lip and glanced up at Claire with a look that melted her heart and stirred something more primitive in equal measure.

“I hated him a little for it all the same.”

“Jamie …”

“I ken it is ridiculous, she is a woman grown and it is natural … I ken it well Sassenach but she is still my daughter, my braw wee girl! And I feel as though ...”

He took a deep breath and shifted his eyes away from Claire

“I feel as though I am maybe being punished for Frank.”

The words spilt out of him, hot and heavy in the light surgery. The smell of herbs and dried flowers suddenly clear in the silence that followed his words.

“What?”

“He had the loving and nurturing of her for nine years and then ye brought her back to me, I have had her for nine years also but now I must give her up to destiny just as Frank did.”

“Oh, Jamie … I …”

Claire shook her head, unsure of what to say that would offer comfort.

“I shouldn’t mind it either, the Fae gave me you; mo Sorcha, mo nighean donn, and they gave me half my daughters childhood to raise her and to love her rightly and through their generosity I also have my son but for all that, the thought of losing Brianna to another man broke my heart a little and I behaved like an ass.”

Jamie smiled a little then and reaching out, drew Claire’s face toward him, his hand gently tangled in her curls. He kissed her cheek and then her lips and finally rested his forehead lightly against hers with a soft sigh.

“When I last spoke to ye of Frank I was vain and foolish. I asked if I must share your heart and I ken the truth is not so. Will ye forgive me for it?”

“Of course! You were just upset!”

Claire opened her eyes and found twin blue orbs observing her with a gentleness that she still could hardly believe possible, even after all the years he had looked at her so.

“Aye, but for stupid reasons. Brianna’s heart belongs to her, it is not for a child to give their heart to a parent and I was selfish to lament a thing I had no right to.”

“I think Roger will take care of it, if she chooses to offer it to him.”

“He best had, for I would kill any man who hurt her.”

Jamie spoke the words with a calm certainty that sent a small chill up Claire’s spine and she clutched his fingers tightly.

“Try not to kill this one without just cause though,eh? Or mame him!”

She smiled and Jamie grimaced

“It really was an accident.”

“Good!”

She kissed his cheek and stood up.

“Now stay there and do not move. I’ll be back to change your compress in a bit.”

“Your wish is my command, Sassenach!”

Jamie grinned and lowered his head back onto his hands, thinking about how exactly he was going to teach Roger all of the things his potential son-in-law would need to know.

*


	15. Together.

Bree felt his fingers twine into the lengths of her hair, each digit warm and sure as they grazed the back of her neck, and smiled a second before Roger’s mouth covered hers with a kiss. Only minutes had passed since he had whispered the three words he had longed to say into the sweet fire of her hair and she had cried the same words into the air beside his neck, nails digging into the flesh of his shoulder.

She reached up to touch his cheek, the black stubble rasping against her nails with a gentle sound, like a smaller version of the noise made by their bodies shifting on the burlap sacks beneath them.

“Are ye alright?”

“I am.”

“Was it as ye thought it would be?”

“In some ways …”

Bree kissed his thumb as he stroked a few fly away hairs back from her face and twined her legs more securely with his.

“I always thought it would be my wedding night and I would be wearing silk and lace on a big bed after a long day …”

Bree broke off with a small laugh at the look of alarm on Roger’s face. The sun was beginning to set and it coated them both in a striking orange light.

“Don’t worry. This is better! It was real and it was… modern!”

There was a lightness in her voice that contrasted starkly to the heavy set of Roger’s jaw, mere inches away.

“I didna mean to rob ye of a vision ye had … If I have shamed you …”

“I don’t feel ashamed!”

Brianna grinned and rolled her hips beneath him

“I feel wicked! You’ve made a sinner of me, Roger Mackenzie!”

“Weel … I should make an honest woman of ye too then, shouldn’t I?”

Bree placed a finger against his lips and smiled softly this time

“I did not come out here and make love with you as a trap Roger, I don’t expect anything from you.”

“But I …”

“Hush.”

Bree lifted her hips impatiently and Roger closed his eyes as he gave himself over to his own sins.

*

Claire watched Bree move about the kitchen and paused in her own chores. Her daughter was positively glowing! Brianna radiated happiness and contentment and she was humming to herself, a tune that Claire had heard Jenny’s girls singing often, something about a true love and a silver moon …

“Oh!”

The gasp slipped from Claire’s lips softly, a small breath that rounded her lips in a delicate ‘O’ of surprise before softening into a smile. She put the half-chopped carrot back in the bowl and wiped her hands on her apron before closing the kitchen door and reaching for the brown bottle of sherry that Jenny always kept on the shelf besides it.

“Bree?”

Claire sat down at the table and crooked a finger at her daughter.

“Yes, Mama?”

“Come and sit with me.”

Claire held out her hand and Bree obligingly sat down opposite her, still smiling but one eyebrow arched in question. Claire poured two small drops of sweet amber liquid into the glasses and slid one across to her daughter

“When did it happen?”

Bree ran a finger tip around the edge of the glass

“When did what happen, Mama?”

“You and Roger …”

Claire raised her own eyebrows, a knowing smile on her lips which only grew as Bree blushed.

“I …”

Bree started to protest and then stopped. Her mother didn’t look angry, nor judgemental, she simply looked curious and … happy.

“Last night. Aren’t you upset?”

“No. And it would be most hypocritical if I was!”

Bree looked momentarily scandalised and then lapsed into giggles.

“How was it?”

“MAMA!”

“You don’t have to give details but … was he kind? Was it good? Were you safe? These are things a mother should have a right to ask.”

Claire shrugged and sipped her drink still surveying Bree over the rim. She watched the struggle of wanting to tell vs keeping her secret play out across her face but the urge to tell was stronger and finally Bree grasped her mother’s hand and lent forward conspiringly

“It was wonderful, Mama!”

She beamed.

She told Claire most things, leaving out the bits that were only for she and Roger to know and sat back when she was done, blue eyes shining and a faint blush still lighting her cheeks.

“I know I should have waited to be married Mama, but we got swept up and before I knew it …”

Bree spread her hands, an exact copy of the gesture her father made when fate conspired to set him on a certain path without alternative and Claire laughed despite herself.

“If we all did exactly as we were meant to, many of life’s best adventures would be left at the wayside!”

Claire sipped her drink and sighed slightly

“I think it would be best if we kept this between us though.”

“Well I was planning on telling Da at dinner …”

Bree kept her face studiously straight for a moment and then gave into the laughter bubbling in her throat at the sight of her mother’s face.

“Very funny.”

Claire snorted, relief coursing through her veins.

“I think Roger is going to ask me to marry him.”

Bree looked her mother in the eye as she spoke, watching for her reaction

“Do you want to marry him?”

“I think so. No. I know I do, but I don’t want him to ask me just because … you know…”

Bree shrugged and Claire saw traces of the uncertain young girl her daughter had been, only a year before; her poised and controlled face momentarily softening to the awkward sweetness of a teenage child.

“He is mad about you, Bree. Anyone can see it. And rightly so!”

Claire nodded straightening proudly

“You’re talented, smart and funny, not to mention breath-takingly gorgeous!”

“Mama…”

Brianna demurred, the tips of her slightly pointed ears going pink with the praise.

“He might not propose anyway.”

“I think he will.”

Claire nodded sagely and Brianna allowed a small ball of hope to glow in her chest at the thought.

“Slante!”

Claire raised her glass and together they toasted the future and all it may hold.

*

Roger tapped the jewellery box in his coat pocket nervously. The jeweller had not understood his willingness to pay extra to have a pretty box, most men were happy with a wee bag but Roger had been insistent that he wanted it and eventually the man had taken his coin and handed it over.

The velvet on the box was the exact shade of the sapphire Roger had chosen and even Jamie had raised his eyebrows when he saw it and admitted that it was a rare fine stone.

“Ye are serious about it then?”

Jamie had asked on the ride back from Edinburgh and Roger had bitten his tongue lightly, refusing to give into sarcasm. Things between he and Jamie had been better since the axe incident two months previously but it was a weary truce and Roger did not want to be the one to break it.

“Aye, wi’ your blessin’ I hope?”

Roger had watched Jamie out of the corner of his eye as he spoke and for a minute he thought the older man had not heard him but then he noticed the tell tale settlement of his features, sliding themselves into that impenetrable mask that both Jamie and his daughter sometimes wore when they were mulling an opinion over.

So Roger rode along in silence and waited. He knew that Jamie at least half-approved of the match, the way he nodded when Roger showed him the ring told him as much, but the prolonged silence suggested that there would be something more to the agreement.

“I spoke to my wife about the possibility of it. She is in favour of whatever Brianna wishes wi’ regard to a husband. I myself have filled the position for a number of years and ken a wee bit more about the ins and outs of what it takes.”

Roger saw Jamie’s wide mouth turn upwards, a stronger lined version of the small smile Bree often gave him.

“I would ask ye a couple of questions, if ye dinna mind Roger?”

“Not at all.”

“Have ye ever had responsibility for another person before? To keep them safe and whole even at risk to ye own self, to train them and discipline them when they need it and to be gentle when they need ye to be?”

Roger shook his head and shrugged a shoulder

“I have not. Nor have I kent family in the normal sense before. But I do ken love, and that is surely what ye speak of. Do I ken what it is to love another person? Aye I do.”

Jamie made an impatient gesture and Roger got the impression that the word ‘love’ was not one that Jamie Fraser had a great deal of interest in. Actions spoke louder than words in his world and although Roger was offering a ring, to Jamie it was just a pretty bauble.

“But do ye think ye could do the things I mentioned?”

“Most of them. I dinna see that it would ever be my place to train or discipline Brianna, she is no’ a child and kens her own mind. I’d offer her my opinions on matters but I would no’ seek to impose my will by force.”

“Is that a common way of thinking in your time?”

“Ye mean do men no’ beat their wives? Some do but they are not good men and it is no’ a practice that society accepts. Why do ye ask?”

“I always wondered when the notion took hold …”

Jamie frowned and for a moment Roger had a wee glimpse into just who had trained who in one particular marriage! 

“Aye, well. Besides that, I can do all those things. I would die to protect Bree.”

Jamie smiled again, a little condescendingly but nodded.

“And where will ye take her?”

“Ah … I …”

Roger flailed for a moment, he had not really thought about it and although he and Bree had spoken of where their futures might lead, neither had actually expressed a particular desire to either leave or stay.

“I suppose wherever she wishes to go.”

The suspicion that had crept into Jamie’s eyes lessened slightly but he reigned in and looked over at Roger, placing a firm hand on the younger man’s sleeve.

“Ye would let her choose?”

“Aye. I would.”

“Why?”

Roger had been startled by the genuine feel of Jamie’s second question and had paused before answering, hoping to give it the respect that a true question deserves.

“I just want to be with Bree, she is my home now. I didna think that I would ever feel that way about someone but there it is. So, I would let her choose this as I have already made my choice. I choose her.”

Jamie had held Roger’s gaze for a few moments more and then nodded and gently urged his horse to walk again.

“Ye have my blessing, Roger Mac.”

“Really? I thought ye’d have more to ask?”

Roger caught up, beaming and Jamie shrugged again

“I did but ye answered all I truly needed to ken.”

*

They married in the summer, the ceremony held in the village church. Brianna wore a gown of cream and peach silk, Roger wore the regalia of his people, the Mackenzie tartan standing in blazing contrast to the white linen of his shirt.

As she stood at the altar, the smooth, cool line of her grandmother’s pearls hung around Bree’s neck where her mother had placed them that morning and the comforting weight of her father’s brooch rested against her hip in the special pocket Aunt Jenny had added.

She could still feel the warm touch of her Da’s hand on her elbow from their walk down the aisle and turned to smile at both of her parents, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of them. Her mother was gripping her father’s hand tightly as she leant across to listen to something Robbie was saying to her, but Jamie had eyes only for his daughter. “No father has ever been prouder of his daughter” he had once said to her and Bree felt that pride now, radiating from him with such force it brought tears to her eyes and she had to blink rapidly to clear them. She turned back to Roger and the ceremony began.

Everything Roger did captivated her, the way he casually swept his hair back out of his eyes and the slow bobbing of his throat as he recited his vows, Brianna had never seen a more beautiful man and she felt her fingers twitch with the urge to touch him.

She spoke her own vows in a clear, strong voice, and noticed the blush of happiness that touched Roger’s cheeks as she did so.

After the English vows, the priest invited them to kiss. The couple were vaguely aware of shrieks and applause behind them as they came together and they smiled against each other, their lips still touching.

Roger had not known a kiss could feel like that, nor that his heart could feel ready to burst at the sight of another person’s smile. Brianna was simply radiant and it was because of him, it was her love for him shining through and Roger had never been so happy in his life.

Minutes later they left the church together, stepping out into the sunlight as husband and wife, Mr and Mrs Mackenzie.

*


	16. Finally.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final instalment of YAMH. Thank you to everyone who has read, shared, commented on and liked/left kudos on my work and for all the words of encouragement along the way. xx

Brianna sipped her coffee and smiled over the rim of the cup at her husband. It was the eve of her twentieth birthday and they had spent the day largely in bed, occasionally leaving the warmth of the blankets to forage for food and finally as she noticed Roger’s eyes drooping, she had insisted they go out for coffee.

Of all the marvellous and inventive beverages Brianna had re-discovered upon her return to the twentieth century, a hot cup of coffee was probably her favourite. She remembered her mother sitting in cafés, poised and elegant in that effortless way of hers, a bakewell slice or muffin split between them, Brianna always being given the largest piece to eat as they waited for Daddy to finish work for the day… That couldn’t have happened often because it was normally Bree and her Daddy waiting for Mama to finish at the hospital.

“Penny for your thoughts…?”

Roger placed his hand over hers and Bree pulled herself back to the present

“I was just thinking of Mama … and Daddy.”

“Ach. Birthdays have a funny way of making us think of the past. Just wait until ye’re nearly thirty! Roger shuddered theatrically and Bree grinned at him, grateful for his humour.

“Would you … no don’t worry.”

“No, please go ahead.”

Roger urged, watching the tips of his wife’s ears blush pink

“Well I was wondering if you would mind watching the sun rise with me tomorrow.”

Roger laughed and pushed his hair back with the back of his wrist

“Is that all ye wanted to ask? Am I such a sorry excuse for a husband that my wife thinks I would ever refuse such a simple request?”

“No! You’re a great husband, it’s only … well… It’s something Da and I used to do every year on my birthday but I know it sounds daft.”

Bree shrugged and absently stirred her coffee.

“Why did he do that with ye? If ye dinna mind my asking.”

Bree sighed a very gentle sigh that he would have missed if he had not been watching her so intently.

“Well, Da told me that he knew I would be born in mid-late November because he had kept track of Mama’s … well… anyway he knew and he was living in the priest hole at the time, his leg was mostly healed but Aunt Jenny still wouldn’t let him wander too far in case he was seen and so he spent most of his days in the dark but at sun rise each morning in November he came upstairs and watched the sunrise despite the patrols because he wanted to make sure he saw the world wake up on the day his child entered it.”

Roger felt the hairs on his arms stand up as they often did when he thought of James Fraser. He had grown to be very fond of his father in law but had never felt that Jamie considered him fully good enough for his daughter and every now and then, Brianna would tell him a wee story such as that and Roger would wonder if maybe Jamie was right.

“Then on the first year Mama and I were back, when I turned ten, he woke me up and wrapped me in his plaid and took me downstairs to watch the sun come up over the hills and gave me a silver hair comb wrapped in a scrap of blue velvet. It was just the two of us and the first time he got to wish me a happy birthday. After that it sort of became our tradition.”

As she spoke Brianna absently wrapped a strand of long red hair around her finger, twisting it round before releasing it. She looked up at Roger and smiled

“I know it must be hard for you to believe Da could be that sweet.”

“Och! On the contrary, I ken that when it comes to you and your mother, Jamie is a verra sweet man. I hope watching the sun come up with me will be a fair substitute.”

“It will.”

Bree squeezed his hand gently and returned her attention to her coffee.

*

“Jamie..?”

Claire’s hand patted across the empty expanse of mattress, still warm from Jamie’s body, and sat up blearily blinking into the semi-darkness.

“Go back to sleep, Sassenach. I’m here.”

His voice rumbled out of the gloaming and Claire saw him sat on the window sill, a ghostly figure outlined in the soft white linen of his nightshirt.

“What time is it?”

Claire slipped out of bed and shivered as her feet touched the wooden floor, tugging the blanket from their bed and wrapping it about her shoulders like a cape as she padded towards him.

“Nearly dawn.”

Jamie smiled, reaching for her without shifting his gaze from the landscape. The sky was the odd luminous grey-pink that came before dawn on a bright day in the highlands during winter and Claire shivered as much from the anticipation of biting wind as the cool air in the room.

Jamie drew her wordlessly to his side and wrapped his arms about her waist, half sitting her on his lap, allowing her to take one foot from the floor.

“It’s Brianna’s twentieth birthday today.”

He murmured, placing a welcoming kiss on her shoulder

“I know. I’m sure Roger will spoil her rotten.”

Claire smiled, stroking his hair gently back behind his ear and kissing the small dimple that appeared in his cheek when he smiled.

“Aye, well. If she was here I would be watching the sunrise with her, I thought it couldna hurt to see it in, even if she is likely asleep in bed.”

“I can’t hurt at all.”

Claire agreed, loosening the blanket and wrapping it around them both.

“But I am pretty sure she’ll be awake and watching too.”

“Do ye think so?”

Jamie asked softly and Claire nodded, her hair gently moving against the stubble of his cheek.

“She loved those mornings with you. She’ll be awake.”

“Mmphhmm.”

Jamie smiled contentedly and together they watched the sun creep over the hills and illuminate the new day beginning.

*

“Roger?”

Bree looked up at her husband, tearing her gaze away from the beautiful pink cloud formations that hovered in the dawns wake.

“Mmmm?”

“I need to tell you something.”

“Aye?”

“I want to go back. When I finish school. I want to go back and start a family. You don’t have to answer now but just, just think about it. OK?”

Roger nodded slowly, twice and then smiled and raised her hand to his lips.

“Well I didn’t have a wee hair comb to give ye this morning but I can give ye a promise instead. When ye finish school, I promise that if it is still what ye want, we’ll go back.”

*

Claire was in her surgery when she heard Jenny cry out and half way down the corridor when she heard Ian’s excited laughter and Jamie’s yell “CLAIRE! They’re home!” She reached the kitchen door, her chest pounding with excitement in time to see Robbie throw his arms around her waist, the only part of her that was available between Jamie and Jenny’s air-tight hugs.

“Bree!”

“MAMA!”

Brianna untangled herself from the others and suddenly they were on the ground, holding each other, their tears mingling with the joy of reunion. Claire had not allowed herself to cry when Brianna left, she knew that Jamie had shed tears for it but she would not. It was an adventure for their daughter and she refused to think of it as a goodbye but now with the solid bones of Brianna’s shoulders beneath her fingers and the sweet shell of her ear pressed against Claire’s cheek, she allowed the tears to flow oh so freely and revelled in the fact that her family was once again home.


End file.
